Chapter 19 A Traitor

• Yurich
• I needed extreme self-control not to take Lyana to bed and have her the way I had desired since the first moment. I saw her at the hospital with her confident, professional demeanor, striving to maintain the same level of care, knowing I was different from the others. Her sweet lips, flushed cheeks, and the scent of vanilla in her hair made me shudder with a certain fear at the thought of the memories when I brought her to the recently purchased apartment. I used every means available, from her father's support to several thousand dollars, to set up the penthouse. I walked out of the apartment feeling like every piece of my body was made of salt. The coldness outside dissolved each piece, and I seemed to be nobody away from her—nothing but the same incurable emptiness.
• When the elevator doors open in the garage, I need to get into the car and rest my head against the steering wheel, trying to find some control. My mind feels like it could explode at any moment. I woke up to the sound of a gun being cocked. “You'd be dead by now,” Nureyev accuses, aiming the gun at my head. “Lyana would be a widow and still in danger.” I clench my jaw at the mention of her name and the reality that confronts us. “Lower that damn thing,” I order.