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“I don’t belong to you,” I say, voice trembling. “We’re over, Luke. You’re deranged if you think I’d ever go back to you.”

His eyes darken instantly, the mask of fake affection cracking into something ugly and violent. I realize too late that I’ve made a mistake.

“You’re coming with me,” he snarls, stalking forward. “Whether you like it or not.”

I hurl the mug of hot tea at him with all my strength. It smashes against his shoulder, scalding liquid splashing across his chest. He howls in pain. I turn and run.

I barely make it three steps into the living room before his hand clamps around my arm. He yanks me back so hard I nearly lose my balance.

“Oh, I see,” he growls, breathing heavily. “You don’t want it the easy way.”

His palm cracks across my face, the slap is so hard my head snaps to the side and I taste blood in my mouth.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” he spits. “I’m going to teach you some respect.”

He grabs me by the throat and slams me down onto the couch. I scream and fight wildly, kicking, scratching, punching, but he’s stronger. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, the other tearing at the shirt underneath.

“Stop! Luke, stop!” I scream, thrashing beneath him as he forces my legs apart with his knees.

“You’re mine, Rosie,” he pants, fumbling with his belt. “You’ve always been mine.”

Terror claws through me. I buck and twist, trying to knee him, but he slaps me again, harder this time. My vision blurs. He’s ripping at my shirt, his weight crushing me, his hand forcing its way between my thighs—

Suddenly, his weight is ripped off me.

I gasp for air, scrambling upright just in time to see Andrei, my Andrei, slamming his fist into Luke’s face with terrifying force. Luke crashes to the floor. Andrei doesn’t stop. He drops on top of him, fists flying in a brutal rhythm. The sound of bone cracking fills the room.

For a second I think I’m hallucinating. But then Andrei looks up at me, chest heaving, eyes wild with rage and relief, and I know he’s real.

I burst into tears.

Andrei lands a few more punishing blows until Luke stops moving entirely, unconscious or possibly dead, I can’t tell. Then he’s on his feet and rushing to me.

He drops to his knees in front of the couch and cradles my face with both hands, thumbs gently wiping away my tears.

“Are you okay?” His voice is rough, shaking with barely contained fury. “Baby, talk to me. Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, sobbing as I throw my arms around his neck. “You’re alive… He told me you were dead.”

Andrei pulls me tightly against his chest, one hand stroking my hair. “I’m here. I’m okay. Luke and Viktor’s plan failed.”

He pulls back just enough to study my face, his jaw tight when he sees the redness on my cheek from Luke’s slaps.

“Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He lifts me into his arms like I’m made of glass. That’s when I notice his men standing in the living room, carrying Luke’s limp body out.

Andrei carries me upstairs, holding me close to his chest the entire way. I bury my face in his neck, still shaking, and whisper, “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t,” he promises. “Never again.”

“Anya,” I whisper.

He stops at her bedroom door. I lift my head just enough to see her curled up peacefully in bed, completely unaware of the nightmare that almost happened downstairs. I let out a shaky breath of relief.

Andrei continues to our bedroom and gently sets me down on the bathroom countertop. He turns on the light and begins carefully cleaning the small cuts and blooming bruises on my face with a wet cloth.

“I thought I’d lost you tonight,” I whisper, voice breaking. “We should go away from all this, Andrei. Please. This war… it’s getting too much. We can go anywhere. Just… away from the chaos. You, me, and Anya.”