WHEN HE DESIRES

SECOND ENCOUNTER

NOVEMBER POV

He knows.

He knows.

He knows.

I watched the stranger's figure leave the bakery only breathing when I heard him drive off.

I should have killed him. Shouldn't have let him leave the bakery. The thought made my head spin.

He's gone now, but what if he comes back? I shuddered as another thought popped into my head: what if he knew where I lived and was waiting for me at home?

A week. A week was all it took before he found me again.

I'm certain that it's him. And the way he looked at me…

That wasn’t a man who stumbled onto a bakery by chance.

Something about him felt terrifyingly familiar. Wrong. And dangerous

I press trembling fingers to my forehead. I can’t afford to fall apart — not here, not now. Not when I’m finally starting to build something resembling a life.

I won't let him have me again. That was the promise I made to myself. The promise I made to us

By the time I leave the bakery, the street is eerily quiet.

The wind claws at my hoodie, cold enough to slip through skin. I walk fast, eyes scanning every alley, every parked car, every shadow that lingers a second too long.

No one follows me.

But that doesn’t comfort me.

Because now the fear isn’t being chased.

It’s being watched.

I turned glancing both ways.

Nothing.

Inside my building, I grip the banister as I climb the dark stairwell. The hallway upstairs is worse—pitch black. The landlord still hasn’t bothered the dead bulbs.

My door didn't look like it had been tampered with—but one couldn't be too careful. I tucked my hand into my purse searching for the gun I had stolen off the bodyguard when escaping from the Romanov estate. The air in my apartment is too still, the quiet too suffocating, like the world is holding its breath.

Just get what you need and leave. I remind myself. With my bag in my hand and a note to give my landlord on the other I twisted the deadbolt and threw open the door, only to stop short.

A man in a sharp suit stood in front of me, blocking my entire view. And not just any man the stranger from the bakery.

Did you think you could run forever?" He asks, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

A scream tears up my throat—but never makes it out.

His hand clamps over my mouth, swallowing the sound whole.

He moves fast, pushing me inside and shutting the door behind us with a quiet click.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he murmurs close to my ear. “I’m going to let go and you’re not going to scream. Okay”

It's best to just do as he says. For now, I'll strike when an opportunity comes.

I nod and slowly he removes his hand.

“Wh–who are you?”

“Killian,” he says, as if the name should answer everything.

It doesn’t.

But it only terrifies me more. I didn't know all of Dimitri's guards, but his name sounded familiar.

He leans back slightly, giving me space.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he repeats.

But I don't believe him.

Men always say that before they do.

He softens his tone—barely.

“I owe your father, November.”

My body goes rigid.

I shouldn't be surprised that he knows, but I am.

He knows my real name.

And he knows my father?

My breath shudders. “My father?”

Killian nods once. “Samuel Paige. He saved my life. And in my world, I repay my debts. Whether the person wants me to or not.”

My fingers tighten around my bag. The last time someone mentioned her father, they used his name to manipulate her. Promise safety, deliver violence.

This has got to be a trap, I tell myself, but another tiny part of me, the naive part, was curious.

“How do you know him?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Killian’s gaze darken—not cruelly, just distant.

“Nineteen years ago, your father saved my life, he says. He didn't say anymore than that.

I looked up at him again. “So why are you here now?”

Killian holds her gaze.

“Because he’s dead.”

A breath leaves me

I closed my eyes, my heart splintered all over again even though I already knew. I had held my father’s cold hand and watched as he bled out. I still remember the taunting smirk on Dimitri face as he made me watch him killing my father. He was only trying to save me from that madman, and it got him killed. I hated that I couldn't save him. Hated that I could only watch him die.

I knew but hearing it from this stranger’s mouth makes the loss feel new.

Fresh.

Raw.

“He was a good man,” Killian says quietly. “Better than most.”

A beat.

“I owed him everything.”

I wiped my cheeks quickly, feeling embarrassed for crying for showing this man a vulnerable side of her.

So what? I snap, you're here for what condolences?!

Killian shakes his head. “I didn’t come for condolences.”

His gaze sharpens.

“I came for you.”

My heart stutters.

“Why?” The words came out before I could stop myself.

“Because Dimitri Romanov is hunting you.”

My blood freezes.

No. No. No.

“How do you—”

“The Romanovs don’t hide their failures well,” Killian says. “And Dimitri’s tantrum after you escaped? Loud. Sloppy. Amateur.”

I never once fooled myself into thinking that I was safe, but I thought I had more time and a whole lot of distance separating us but it turns out that Dimitri would do anything just to get me back. My hand slid to my stomach_ to get us back.

“Romanovs won’t find you here,” he says.

I look up sharply. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” What if all this is just some mind game and you are trying to f**k me over.

“No,” Killian replies. "I don't expect you to trust me I expect you to listen.”

The door suddenly opened and I jumped. Pulling my gun out of my bag, I pointed it at the intruder. He pauses for a bit when he sees me, then shifts his attention to Killian. Killian didn't seem surprised by the man's presence, but I noticed his expression changing subtly.

The intruder gives a small nod.

“Sir. We have movement.”

Killian straightens.

“What kind?”

“Black SUV. Romanov plates. Parked two blocks down.”

Everything inside me goes cold. I gripped the gun so hard my knuckles turned white.

He found me.

Killian turns to me, calm as ever.

“They’re sloppy,” he says, voice low. “Only two men. A scouting team.”

“I don't care if it's two or twenty," I snap. He found me.”

A flicker of something almost amused crosses his face. “Believe me if Dimitri really found you, you’d already be in a trunk.”

I sway suddenly feeling dizzy.

Killian steps closer but doesn’t touch me. His closeness is overwhelming, intoxicating, terrifying.

“You want to live?” he asks quietly.

I nodded quickly, my chest heaving.

“Then come with me.”

She shakes her head instantly. “No. I… I don’t know you.”

“And you do know Romanov? You know what he’ll do when he gets here.”

A pause.

“You think you’re scared now, November? Wait until Dimitri gets his hands on you again.”

A sob escapes my throat before she can stop it.

“I’m not asking for trust. His voice softened this time as he spoke not from gentleness but just a deadly calm. I’m offering survival.”

“I left that life,” she whispers.

“No,” Killian says. “You ran. There’s a difference.”

His guard clears his throat quietly. “Sir… time is running.”

Killian studied me.

And something changes in his eyes.

Resolve. And something else that I couldn't quite put a finger on

He steps back and extends his hand—not gently, but firmly.

“November Paige,” he says, “I’m taking you with me.”

She takes a shaky step back. “No… I—”

Killian’s voice grows cold. “If you stay here, they will kill everyone who lives here, burn this place to the ground, and drag you back bleeding.”

Her breath stops.

“Choose,” Killian says softly. “Right now.”

Another car door slams in the distance.

My heart shattered against my ribs.

I had no choice—I know this.

Killian knows it.

With trembling fingers, I reached for his outstretched hand.

Killian closes his hand around mine, firm and unyielding.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and for some unknown reason, heat floods my cheeks.

He leads me towards the door, his body shielding me, every step filled with command and certainty.

As he opens the door, he glances back once—at my apartment, the place where I had tried to build a new life in.

“You won’t be coming back here,” Killian says quietly.

It’s not a threat.

It’s a promise.