Page 231 of Mile High Ruin

The expression on him is terrible.

“Let her go,” he says.

Viktor laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “So you can take me?”

“So she can walk away.”

“You had your chance to let her walk away.”

Vadim’s gaze flicks to mine. For half a second, the whole garage seems to narrow to that look. I want him to do something. I want him not to. I want to hate him enough that this is simple.

Viktor begins backing toward the car waiting near the garage slope, dragging me with him while keeping my body between himself and Vadim’s men. Every step feels wrong, clumsy, humiliating, my hand pressed protectively to my stomach while his arm stays locked around me.

“Vadim,” Anton says quietly.

Vadim lifts one hand without looking away from me.

Nobody moves. No one raises a gun. No one comes closer.

The circle opens.

My chest tightens with something that feels almost like betrayal, even though I know exactly why he’s doing it.

Because of the baby. Because of me.

Because Viktor knows it too.

“You’re letting him take me?” I ask. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Vadim’s jaw clenches. His eyes burn into mine. “For now.”

Viktor pulls me another step back. I almost stumble, and his hand shifts quickly to steady me, too careful now, as if he remembers too late that I’m pregnant and not merely convenient.

That small care makes the betrayal worse.

I turn my head as much as his hold allows. “You told me he was the monster.”

Viktor’s mouth is close to my ear when he answers. “He is.”

“Then what are you?”

He doesn’t answer.

The car door opens behind us. A driver waits at the wheel, face forward, engine already running. Viktor moves me toward the back seat.

I look at Vadim again, searching his face for something I can understand, but he only stands there with his men held back by the force of one raised hand, looking like every second he lets this happen is carving something out of him.

“Don’t follow,” Viktor calls.

Vadim’s mouth twists faintly. “You know I will.”

“Yes,” Viktor says, forcing me down into the car ahead of him. “But not fast enough.”

I catch one last glimpse of Vadim before Viktor climbs in beside me. His face is white with rage. His eyes are on me.

Only me.

Then the door slams shut, the locks click, and the car shoots forward toward the garage exit while I twist in the seat and look back through the rear window.