Chapter 6- You think you can keep me.

The air in the ballroom felt heavy, like the oxygen had been sucked out the moment Xavier’s gun lowered. My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked at the back of Xavier’s neck.The tense muscles, the dark hair and Realizing the man standing in front of me was a stranger.

​Viktor didn't wait for an invitation. He stepped closer, his boots crunching on the shards of crystal. He ignored the photograph on the floor, keeping his eyes locked on mine, enjoying the way the light caught the tears I refused to let fall.

​"You look confused, little bird," Viktor mused, his voice a low, melodic poison. "You think this is a raid? A kidnapping? No. This is a simple pickup. Your father is a businessman, and eighteen years ago, he ran out of liquid assets. He needed a bridge loan to build this golden life you've been enjoying."

​I felt the room tilt. I looked at my father, who was slumped in his chair, unable to even meet my gaze.

​"He didn't sign away his buildings or his ships," Viktor continued, his smile widening. "He signed away his future. Specifically, the girl born of his blood. You weren't a daughter to him, Astrid. You were a post-dated check."

​The sob I was holding back turned into a cold, hollow ache. My own father had spent eighteen years looking at me and seeing nothing but a debt he hoped would never come due.

​Before I could collapse, Xavier’s hand tightened on my arm. He didn't let go. Instead, he pulled me closer, his chest a solid wall of warmth that felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.

​"The contract is trash," Xavier said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly register. "The debt passed to me when I took over the empire tonight. And I don’t settle debts with people. I settle them with fire."

​Viktor laughed, a dry, hacking sound. "You think you can keep her? You’re just like the old man, boy. You just want a prettier cage for the prize."

​Xavier didn’t flinch. He reached up with his free hand, his fingers brushing the gold necklace he’d forced around my neck earlier. Eres Mío. The words burned against my skin.

​"I'm nothing like him," Xavier whispered, though I wasn't sure if he was talking to Viktor or to me. "He used her as collateral to survive. I'm keeping her because I want to."

​The standoff shattered in a heartbeat. Viktor gestured, his men moved, and Xavier didn't hesitate. He didn't fire at the men he fired at the massive crystal chandelier hanging directly over the center of the room.

​The explosion of glass and light was blinding. In the chaos, the screams of the guests returned, providing a wall of sound. Xavier’s arm hooked around my waist, lifting me off my feet as if I weighed nothing. He kicked the photograph away, burying it under a pile of broken glass before I could even try to see it.

​"Close your eyes, Astrid," he commanded.

​He moved with a lethal, calculated speed, dodging through the panic. We weren't headed for the main doors. We were headed for the private elevators the ones that led to the garage and his armored cars.

​As the elevator doors hissed shut, cutting off the sounds of the Bratva, I looked up at Xavier. His face was a mask of cold fury, his eyes dark with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl and my heart race all at once.

​"He sold me," I breathed, the reality finally breaking me.

​Xavier leaned down, his shadow swallowing me whole. "He did. But he’s out of the picture now. You don't belong to the Bratva, and you don't belong to him." He tilted my chin up, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "You're with me now. And I never lose what's mine."

The transition from the ballroom to the garage was a blur of shadows and heavy footsteps. I expected a few bodyguards, but as we burst through the service doors, I gasped. A fleet of black SUVs sat idling, their headlights cutting through the dim concrete space like predator eyes. Dozens of men actual soldiers, not just security stood ready, forming a human corridor between us and the lead vehicle.

​Xavier didn't slow down. He didn't even look back to see if we were being followed.

​He hauled me toward the center SUV, his hand never leaving my arm. Before I could find my voice to protest, the door was flung open.

​"Get in," he commanded. It wasn't a suggestion.

​"Xavier, wait my father, the party"

​"Your father is a ghost," he snapped, his eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying light. "And that party ended the second he let a wolf into his house to claim you. Move. Now."

​He shoved me into the plush leather interior. The door slammed shut with a heavy, pressurized thud that signaled the car was armored. A second later, Xavier slid in beside me, the sheer size of him making the spacious cabin feel small and suffocating.

​

​The car roared to life, and the entire convoy moved in perfect unison. We peeled out of the estate, the tires Screeching against the pavement as we left the only life I had ever known behind.

​I pressed my forehead against the cool, tinted glass, watching the iron gates of the estate disappear into the night. We weren't headed toward the city. We were turning north, toward the mountains, away from help and away from the law.

​"Where are we going?" I whispered, my voice small against the hum of the engine. "This isn't the way to the penthouse."

​Xavier didn't look at me. He was busy checking a tablet, his face illuminated by the blue light of the screen, highlighting the sharp, predatory lines of his jaw.

​"The penthouse is too exposed," he said, his voice dropping into that dark, possessive tone that made my heart stutter. "Viktor knows my city addresses. He doesn't know about the Heights. It’s a fortress, Astrid. My fortress."

​The Realization

​I looked down at the gold necklace still heavy around my neck. He hadn't just saved me from being collateral for a debt; he had collected me for himself.

​"You're kidnapping me," I said, the realization finally sinking in. "You're no better than Viktor."

​Xavier finally turned his head. He leaned in close, his scent—expensive sandalwood and gunpowder—filling my senses. He reached out, his thumb grazing the "Eres Mío" engraving on the gold charm.

​"Viktor wanted to sell you to the highest bidder in St. Petersburg," he rasped, his eyes boring into mine. "I'm keeping you. There’s a difference, Astrid. By the time we reach the estate, you’ll understand that you don't answer to the Bratva, and you definitely don't answer to your father anymore."

​He leaned back, his striking outline imposing against the passing streetlights. "

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