She freezes for a moment. “Oh.”
That expression tells me everything I need to know about her: that I’m right about what the little kotyonok thinks of me, what she thinks of herself, what she thinks of this dangerous dance we’re locked into.
And my reaction to the crestfallen look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know about myself: that at some point in this game, I got in deeper than I realized.
Toying with her sporadically isn’t enough.
Tasting her from time to time no longer satisfies.
I want to swallow her whole.
But weakness is the last thing I need right now. And if there’s one thing that marks a don as weak, it’s losing his mind over a silly little girl. So I do the only thing I can do—straighten up and leave.
“I trust you know your way out,” I say as I go. “If not, j
