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We’re walking a very thin line, and I don’t know if I want to kill him or end this. Old habits die hard. You never let someone know too much about you. They can use it against you when you least expect it.

That’s not what I want from Ilya. Damn it. I want something real. I just don’t know how we’re going to get there.

Or if we can.

“I don’t think anyone truly knows you but yourself, Lane.” His words are direct, blunt, said in that patient tone I’m slowly starting to hate. I much prefer when he yells at me. I can handle anger. “You’re a solitary creature. Have had to be. Asking you to come into this world in a capacity that you’ve never had, is going to be challenging. For you and I both. You’re used to doing whatever the hell you want, being on your own and only responsible for yourself. I’m responsible for thousands of people, for an operation that spans multiple states, and makes billions. I can’t just run off and do whatever the hell I want. I also do not take orders well.” He smirks. “And you, lisichka, you love to give them.”

“Then maybe you should realize that someone else other than you knows things that can make life far better for everyone, kotyonek. Including you.”

“That’s not how this works, and you know it, Lane. I am Pakhan. I run things, and I cannot look weak in front of anyone. Especially my men. And you will make me look that way if you go around ordering everyone without discussing it with me. My men will think you have me by the balls, and I can’t allow that.”

“Yes, the age-old rule that women are to be seen and not heard. I’d like to point out that that hasn’t turned out so well for everyone, has it? I’d point out that the Smirnov Pakhan runs his operations jointly with his wife. She’s an equal, and she makes decisions that affect their operations just as much as he does.”

“And were they one of the families that sent their children to the school?”

“No. In fact, they were high on the list of people that Pasha was going to take out as soon as he had the manpower and backing of some of the larger Pakhans. He’d already started fanning the flames of dissent toward them. I’ve merely ensured that didn’t happen.”

Ilya smiles at me, and I’m instantly on alert.

“What?”

“You may think you’re cold and ruthless, Lane, but you’re far from it. You have a good heart, even if you try to keep it covered and contained.”

“It’s not a good heart to be strategic,” I snap, anger and discomfort making me stand and climb out.

Ilya stays and watches me. What, I’m not worth even trying to run after now? God, I hate myself for thinking that. How fucking needy that sounds. No, that needs to stop. I’m not that person.

I’m going to blame the sex and lack of sleep. There’s no other explanation for all these emotions hitting me. All these thoughts and emotions.

“And for your information, I was one of the ones who took out his lieutenants on Pasha’s orders. I planted the evidence that Pasha wanted to turn the tide.” I grab a towel from the vanity and briskly dry myself.

This was a fucking mistake. A huge mistake. I should never have come here. I should never have let him drug me and bring me here before I was ready.

“And just how soon did you plant the evidence that cleared them?”

Damn him. Years of training keep me from reacting. Instead, I ignore his statement. “Don’t act like I’m a good person, Ilya. I’m not. I accepted that a long time ago. I have a goal, and I do whatever is required to get that goal finished. Simple. I had a reason for keeping them there to serve a purpose I chose, so I made it happen. I manipulated; I used my skills to see it finished. Nothing less, nothing more.”

Water sloshing, I hear him climbing out of the tub.

“Do you think that’s what you’re going to do to me?”

The question is so out of left field I spin and stare at him. He stands there, dripping wet. Seeing far too much.

“Do what to you?”

“Manipulate me. Use me to get what you want.”

Is the heat going to his head from the bath? Or did I accidentally fuck the brains out of him?

“Pet, I think we need to start putting a limit on how many times I drain your balls in a day, because, clearly, it’s affecting your thinking. I’ve done nothing but manipulate and use you since the moment we met. Sure, maybe not to the degree of what I’ve done to others, but it’s still the same.”

“It’s not the same.” He grabs a towel and dries himself.

“How the fuck not?” My temper is starting to rise, no matter how much I try to keep a lock on it. This man is irritating the shit out of me with this. Couldn’t he just let me go? Avoid all of this?

Why does everything need to be a discussion?

“All the others were a job. I was a goal. Simple.”