Sebastian Volkov's POV
The icy silence of the alley was broken when Gianna, her shoulders slumped and sobs choked in her throat, nodded slightly. She gave in. Seeing her yield to my suggestion of going to a hotel didn't bring me the victory my ego had hoped for weeks ago; it only brought a desperate relief that loosened the muscles in my chest.
She turned to the window of the van, where the Turkish driver was still staring at us, his eyes wide and his hands tense on the steering wheel.
"Mr. Malik..." she said, her voice trembling but forcing a calm I knew she didn't feel. "Don't worry. I really will be fine. Go back to the mansion with Aslan Bey. I'll be safe."
The man hesitated, looking at me and then at Marcus, who was still perched like a stone gargoyle by the cab, but finally nodde
