Page 163 of Marrying the Savage

“Why did your men grab me like I was being smuggled across a border?”

Arman glances at the two men beside me. “Because you were standing in a service corridor during an armed fight, and if they had politely introduced themselves, you would have screamed, run, or stabbed them with a hanger.”

“I still might.”

One of his men mutters, “She already bit me.”

I turn on him. “You covered my mouth.”

“You were going to scream.”

“I was being abducted.”

“Rescued.”

“Your technique needs work.”

Arman chuckles and gets out of the car fully. “She’s right.”

His man looks offended. “Boss.”

“You did put a hand over her mouth.”

“She was about to alert half the gallery.”

“She’s also Damir Volodin’s wife, so perhaps try not to make the experience feel like a kidnapping unless you want to explain bite marks to him personally.”

That shuts him up.

I look at Arman more carefully. “Anya sent you?”

“She said you needed help getting out.” His gaze moves briefly toward the building. “She didn’t mention there would be a public fight with Dmitri Sokolov and half the Volodin security team inside.”

“I improvised.”

“I can tell.”

“I don’t like your tone.”

“I am trying very hard to sound respectful.”

“You’re failing.”

His mouth curves. “Please get in the car, Sofia. We need to leave before Damir’s men realize this service route was not covered as well as they thought.”

I hesitate. That name does what it always does now.

Damir.

The gallery is behind me. He is somewhere inside, probably still dealing with Dmitri, probably furious, probably seconds away from noticing I’m gone.

This is what I wanted. This is the exit.

Still, my feet don’t move.

Arman’s expression becomes less amused. “My cousin said you needed my help,” he says, quieter now. “I am taking a very large risk by giving it. If you want to go back inside, say so, and I will leave you here. If you want out, this is the moment.”

I look at the car. I hate that my hands are shaking.