Page 63 of Phantom Flower

By the time I stepped out, I was pink and raw, but cleaner.

No clothes. Of course.

I padded over to the massive closet and hesitated only a second before grabbing one of his black t-shirts and a pair of shorts. His pants would have dragged on the floor. The shirt was huge on me. The hem hit mid-thigh.

It smelled like him.

I walked slowly into the kitchen. It was stupidly big. Dimitri was at the stove.

I slid onto one of the stools at the island without a word.

A minute later he set a plate of pancakes in front of me. I arched an eyebrow. I remembered him saying how much he loved sweets. I was not a fan. Congee, eggs, anything savory. That was breakfast to me. Not this sugar bomb.

I looked at the plate, then at him.

He had cooked for me. I did not want to be rude. So I picked up the fork and started eating.

He sat across from me and demolished his own stack like it was a race.

“Are you coming back to school?” I asked after a few bites.

He smirked. “You miss me, Lyubimyy?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. I had no idea what the hell that meant. Did it mean “fairy” in Russian? He kept calling me that. But it did not sound right. I shook my head. “I’m just asking.”

He hummed, clearly amused. “Yes. I will be. I have to keep my eyes on you.”

I chewed slowly, staring at my plate. I did not know how we had gotten here. From complete strangers to that insane chase through the woods, to daily texts, to me sitting in his mansion wearing his clothes and eating his pancakes.

It gave me whiplash.

I still did not know what he wanted from me. It felt sexual. Romantic? No. He did not do romance. Definitely sexual. But I did not think I liked guys… or maybe I did? Considering I came in my pants because he had a gun down my throat, I thought it might not be impossible. But I was confused.

I had never experienced anything like this before.

“I have to go home. My mom is probably wondering where I am.”

Lie.

She probably had not noticed I was gone.

He finished his food, stood, and carried his plate to the sink. “No. You will stay here until I find out who tried to hurt you.”

“What??” I set my fork down hard. “I can’t stay here. What if it takes days? Weeks? Months? What if you don’t find him?”

“You’re underestimating me. And the decision is clear. You can give your mom an excuse. I’m sure you can come up with something. Although I doubt you need one.”

I stood and brought my plate to the sink too, setting it down harder than necessary. “You can’t possibly hold me here.”

He smiled and turned to face me.

“I can,” he said softly. “And I will.”

***

I stepped out into the long hallway a few hours later, heart hammering like I was doing something wrong. Dimitri was on a call in his office. I had heard his voice through the door, something about “handling it” and “no loose ends.” I did not need to hear the rest. I already knew what he meant.

My bare feet padded down the grand staircase. I half-expected the front doors to be locked. Dimitri was unhinged enough to do it, keep me here like some fragile doll in his dark cage. But when I gripped the handle and turned it, it clicked open.