Page 125 of Gilded in Blood

I look around the penthouse. I’ve always known he was rich. Anyone living here clearly wasn’t struggling. But I didn’t think he had enough to retire.

He studies me for a second before saying quietly, “I never got to know my father. According to my mom, he was a Russian immigrant who died before I was born. She raised me alone. But when I was ten, my mom died from breast cancer. After that, I was put into the system.

“Losing both parents at such a young age… it broke something in me. My grief turned into rebellion. I never stayed in one foster home for long. I was always running away. The homes weren’t always kind, but I didn’t make it easy on them either.

“I was angry at the world. I joined bad gangs, pickpocketing, shoplifting, drugs, you name it.”

He pauses, looking down at his hand for a moment before continuing.

“One day, I pickpocketed a man’s wallet. I was sixteen. I thought it was just another score, that I’d get away clean. But I hadn’t gone more than a few blocks when he caught up with me. That’s when I knew I’d stolen from the wrong person. His name was Sergei. He was dangerous. But instead of killing me or turning me in, he saw something in me.”

He inhales deeply, like he’s sharing pieces of himself he rarely lets anyone see.

“Instead of punishing me, Sergei told me I was going to earn his forgiveness for stealing from someone like him. We made a deal. I had to stop pickpocketing, stop shoplifting, doing drugs, and meet him every day at a particular training center.

“He trained me. At first, I hated it. But he was a dangerous man. I knew if I backed out, I could get killed. So, I stopped running with the friends I used to have. I started training with him instead. I built resilience. I became sharper in my thinking. I learned all sorts of self-defense.”

He gives a shake of his head smiling like he can’t believe how his life had turned out.

“From there, we moved to a shooting range. Over the years, he trained me to make better use of the anger I carried inside.”

He pauses, squeezing my hand gently.

“When I turned 18 and aged out of the system, he offered me a job. He was in the extraction business, getting people who were in danger out safely. I started with smaller, less dangerous jobs and worked my way up. Every penny I earned, he taught me how to invest it, how not to waste it. I’ve been saving and building since I was eighteen.”

I’m shocked by all of it. This gives me a clearer picture of the man he used to be and the journey that shaped him into who he is now.

“Are you still in communication with Sergei?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. He passed away two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“He was like the father I never had.”

He takes my plate from me and places it with his on the coffee table, then takes both my hands in his, looking into my eyes.

“Before I met you, Milana, I never knew there was another type of life possible. I didn’t think there was anything beyond the world I was used to. Now that you’ve come into my life, I would very much like for us to continue what we have. I don’t want what we have to end.”

My heart feels like it might burst. The butterflies in my stomach take flight. “So what are you saying?” I ask, voice soft.

He smiles, small and genuine. “This is me officially asking you to be in a relationship with me.”

I feel warmth spread through my chest, a happiness I haven’t felt in so long. “I would love that.”

He leans in and kisses me deeply, and I open up for him, deepening the kiss.

As we kiss, he pulls me onto his lap and growls against my lips, low and hungry. “I want you.” His hands are already trying to pull my clothes off, impatient and needy.

I pull back just enough to breathe. “Your arm… I don’t want you to injure it more.”

He laughs, dark and rough, nipping at my lower lip. “It’s my arm that’s injured, not my fucking dick.”

I can’t help but smile, even as heat pools low in my belly. “You’re so needy.”

“Only for you,” he murmurs, kissing me again, deeper this time. His good hand slides under my shirt, palming my breast as he growls, “Now stop talking and ride my dick like the good girl you are.”

I laugh softly into his mouth, but the words send a thrill through me. We’re already half-naked, my nightgown gone. I take off his belt, shoving his pants the rest of the way down.