Chapter 4

Roman

I watched her closely. The way her hands curled into fists at her sides, as she stared me down—she was trying to appear fearless. Bold. But I could see right through her. Fear wasn't something you could hide, not from me.

"Sorry, I'm no one's property," she had said. That fire in her eyes—most would call it foolish. I found it intriguing.

She was different. And I needed to know why.

Leo had come through quicker than usual. By the time I woke up this morning, my phone buzzed with the details I'd asked him to dig up last night. Maya Hartwell. Daughter of Alexander Hartwell, a man who didn't just own his wealth—he ruled it. She was the only heir to his empire, born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but that wasn't what caught my attention.

She'd walked away from it all.

Not just the luxury or the privilege, but the future her father had handpicked for her. An arranged marriage to some business tycoon's son. A deal worth millions, no doubt. The kind of arrangement that would have made her untouchable to the likes of me.

And yet, here she was.

Standing in my apartment, wearing that sexy dress from last night making me want to bend her over and fuck her while she screams my name.

Did she know how exposed she was here? Or had she been foolish enough to believe she could hide from her past?

She turned toward the door, and I moved instinctively, catching her before she could escape. My hand gripped her waist, as I pulled her back toward me.

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening against mine. She wasn't as fearless as she wanted me to believe.

"Believe me when I say no one spends the night with me and leaves," I murmured, tilting her chin up so her eyes locked with mine. "You belong to Roman Volkov now."

Her lips parted, a sharp reaction on the tip of her tongue, but she stayed silent. The fight in her eyes flickered, replaced by something raw.

I'd met plenty of women who thought they could defy me. They always learned quickly that I wasn't someone to cross. Maya, though... she wasn't like the others.

Not that it mattered. She had walked into my life, and now she was mine. Whether she realized it or not, her fate had been sealed the moment she spent the night with me.

And I wasn't letting her go.

Her silence lingered longer than I expected, the fight in her eyes flickering once more as though she couldn't decide whether to shove me away or give in. It didn't matter. She'd try to run, but the strings were already tightening.

"I don't belong to anyone," she repeated, her voice trembling, though she tried to mask it.

I tilted my head slightly, a smirk playing on my lips. "That's the thing, Maya. You don't get to decide this time."

Her hands moved to push against my chest, but I didn't budge. I let her try anyway, watched the way her jaw clenched when she realized she couldn't overpower me.

"You don't know anything about me," she hissed, her frustration spilling over.

I leaned down, so close our breaths mingled, my voice lowering to a murmur. "I know enough. I know who you're running from and why."

"You're bluffing," she whispered, though there wasn't much confidence behind it.

"Am I?" I let go of her waist, stepping back deliberately, giving her room to breathe and process. "Tell me, then. If you're not running, why did you disappear from your father's mansion in the middle of the night? Why did you burn the bridge he built for you to marry into power?"

Her lips parted, but no words came.

I turned my back on her, taking a slow step toward the table where my breakfast still sat untouched. "You thought you could outrun your past, Maya. Chicago isn't the safe haven you think it is. And if you leave now..." I paused, glancing over my shoulder, "You'll find out the hard way just how many people are already looking for you."

Her breath hitched audibly. I didn't need to look at her to know she was weighing her options. She didn't trust me—good. She shouldn't. But she wasn't stupid. If she had any sense at all, she'd realize her best shot at staying alive was right here, with me.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Her arms folded across her chest, a poor attempt at looking confident.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You had a choice," she said, her voice sharper now. "Plenty of women here last night. Plenty of easier options."

I almost laughed. Easier? Sure. But I didn't take the easy route—I never had.

"Let's just say you intrigued me," I replied, my tone casual. "Something about a woman walking into a club like she owns the place, but looking over her shoulder like the devil's on her heels."

She flinched, almost imperceptibly, but I caught it.

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back. "I'm not here for your games."

"No," I said evenly. "You're here because you don't have anywhere else to go."

Her eyes darkened, but she didn't deny it.

"Let me make this simple for you, Maya." I pushed off the table, closing the distance between us in a few steps. Her breathing hitched, but she held her ground. Good. I liked that fire in her.

"You want to run? Fine. But you'll be running blind. From your father, his enemies, and anyone else who catches wind of the story you're trying to outrun." I leaned in, my voice dropping. "Or you can stay. And I'll make sure no one touches you. No one."

Her lips parted, but no sound came. I could see the gears turning in her head, the doubt, the fear, the tiny flicker of trust she didn't want to acknowledge.

I straightened, giving her space again. "Your call, princesa."

Maya's lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, I thought she was going to spit some fiery retort and storm out the door. But instead, she held her ground, her gaze locking onto mine like she was searching for cracks in my armor.

"You think you've got me all figured out," she said finally. "Some damsel in distress running from her rich daddy. That's what you think, right?"

I smirked, tilting my head slightly. "Am I wrong?"

Her jaw clenched, and she took a step closer, pointing a finger at my chest. "You don't know a damn thing about me. And I'm not about to let some overconfident stranger act like he's my savior."

I caught her wrist before her finger could jab me again, my grip sharp around her tiny wrist. "Careful, princesa," I warned. "You might not like the consequences of pushing me too far."

She glared up at me, "I've been pushed too far my whole life, Roman. By people who thought they owned me. By people who thought they could control me. You don't scare me."

She was lying. I could feel the slight tremble in her wrist, see the way her pupils dilated ever so slightly. But I didn't call her out on it. Not yet.

"You've got guts," I said, letting go of her wrist. "I'll give you that. But guts won't keep you alive in my world, Maya."

"Then maybe I don't want to be in your world," she snapped.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's not about what you want. You walked into my club last night. Into my bed. And now, whether you like it or not, you're in my world."

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and for the first time, the fight seemed to leave her. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking smaller than she had a moment ago. "What do you want from me, Roman?"

It was a good question. A fair question.

I closed the distance between us again, my voice soft. "What I want is simple, Maya. I want you to stay."

Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. "Why?"

"Because you're trouble," I said with a smirk. "And I happen to like trouble."