Page 105 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

Choosing him.

The realization should scare me more than it does.

Instead, I shift closer. Barely an inch. Still enough that Aleksander notices immediately.

His fingers tighten fractionally against his knee before he turns his head toward me.

The air changes instantly.

His breathing loses its steady rhythm. One slow inhale catching halfway through his chest before his gaze drops briefly to my mouth.

The partition between us and the driver has been raised since we left the club, sealing us into a private silence that suddenly feels much too small.

“What do you want?” he asks. The question is rough. I lift my hand and touch his chest. His body goes absolutely still beneath my palm.

“I want you not to walk away this time.”

His fingers flex on his thigh.

“Sasha,” I whisper.

The name does what it did last night. I feel it move through him, feel the fracture in all that discipline, feel the man beneath the control answer before the rest of him can stop it.

When he looks at me, his eyes are dark pools.

“Say it only if you mean it.”

I don’t hesitate. “Sasha.”

His hand lifts slowly to my jaw. Stops before touching. I close the distance, turning my face into his palm.

His fingers settle against my skin, warm and careful, trembling almost imperceptibly. That tiny weakness undoes me more than any force could have.

His eyes lift back to mine.

“Yes, trouble?”

The nickname lands somewhere low in my stomach. I know exactly what this means.

A shift neither of us can undo afterward. Somehow that feels far more intimate.

My fingers close slowly around the sleeve of his coat before I can lose my nerve. His gaze searches my face with unnerving precision. “This complicates things for you.”

This isn’t what men like my father say. This isn’t what powerful men usually mean.

“Yes,” I whisper. The truth sits hot and aching beneath my skin. Days of tension and restraint and wanting him while pretending I don’t. Every careful glance. Every accidental touch. Every moment of safety I never expected to feel beside a man like him.

I am so tired of holding all of it alone.

His fingers brush lightly against my jaw. The touch is absurdly gentle for a man capable of so much violence. His thumb traces once along my cheekbone, eyes never leaving mine.

“You look terrified,” he murmurs.

“I am.”

His expression shifts slightly.

“But I also feel safe with you.”