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I step closer, lowering my voice. “You can be angry with me in the house. You can be angry with me at the shelter. You can be angry with me when you call to tell me Luka is irritating you. None of it changes the conditions.”
Her shoulders lift with a breath she holds too long before releasing. The irritation in her face isn't the whole story. I can see the fear beneath it. She’s decided the shelter needs her more than she wants the safety of staying here.
“I know you’re scared,” she says gently.
The truth of it unsettles me. Maggie sees too much when she decides to look. I keep my face controlled, but something in my silence must answer for me because her irritation eases around the edges.
“I’ll be careful,” she says.
“You’ll be protected,” I insist.
“That too.”
It isn’t enough. Nothing about this is enough. Letting her leave the estate feels wrong in every way that matters, but keeping her here by force would make her fight me harder, and Maggie’s life can’t become another thing I crush beneath the weight of my protection.
I reach for her hand. She lets me take it. Her fingers are warm against mine, and for one heartbeat, the driveway, the men, the engines, and Roman’s message recede behind the simple fact that she’s standing in front of me alive. Afraid, stubborn, and already more important than is safe for either of us.
“You call me if anything feels wrong,” I tell her.
“I will.”
“Not after you investigate it yourself or decide whether it’s worth mentionin’.”
Her brows lift. “Are you mockin’ my accent while givin’ me orders?”
“I’m making sure you understand me.”
A reluctant smile appears before she looks away, and I dislike how much that small victory matters. She squeezes my hand once.
“Go call Roman,” she says. “You look like you’re two seconds away from climbin’ out of your skin.”
“I don’t climb out of anything.”
“No, I suppose you just stand there and intimidate the skin into stayin’ put.”
Luka turns his head toward the gate with the sudden focus of a man determined not to react. Maggie notices and points at him again.
“I swear, Luka.”
“I heard nothing,” he says.
“Liar.”
I almost smile. I release Maggie’s hand because if I hold it longer, I’ll delay both of us. Luka opens the door fully, and Maggie climbs inside.
The first SUV pulls forward, followed by the second. I stand on the steps until both vehicles reach the gates. The iron bars open, the convoy slips through, and the estate closes behind her.
I’ve watched convoys leave for years without giving them a thought once they cleared my line of sight. Watching Maggie disappear beyond my gate feels entirely different.
Viktor steps beside me with another man at his back.
“The car is ready,” he says.
I turn from the drive. “Good.”
Viktor watches me a beat longer than usual. “You shouldn’t look that smug while injured,” I tell him.
“I’m not smug.”