The Darkest Temptation (Made Book 3)

que sera sera

(prov.) what will be, will be

MILA

“Maybe I could backpack across Europe,” I announced.

Head resting on his paws, Khaos looked unimpressed with the idea. I’d snuck him in through the back door and up to my room. If this was my last night here, I didn’t want to spend it alone. Khaos had secured a decent chunk of my bed and was already shedding everywhere. I loved it.

Even after learning what my papa did for business, it was hard to see him in a different light than the father who washed my hair when I was a child. I couldn’t deal with the thought of him dying tomorrow or the truth of my mother, so I focused on the things I could control.

Lying on my stomach, I rested my chin on my hand. “I suppose you need some kind of monetary support to backpack—or at least a talent and a hat.” I sighed, depressed. “I don’t have either of those.”

“What about college?” I perked up. “Maybe I could get a scholarship. I am a little bit smart—book-wise at least. I can’t say I’m street smart, or I obviously wouldn’t be here . . . But if I got a scholarship that pays for room and board and vegan food and toiletries . . .”

Khaos lifted his ears as if to say, “Good luck with that.”

“It’s probably too late to apply anyway. And unrealistic. Since I graduated, I haven’t done anything but watch Forensic Files and have sex with a Russian mobster. My application would suck.”

I exhaled loudly and wondered what I liked to do. I knew there were plenty of things I enjoyed, but put on the spot, the first thing that popped into my head was eating french fries.

“Maybe McDonald’s will hire me,” I mentioned impassively. “And if my brothers are decent enough to leave me one of Papa’s cars, I’ll even have a place to sleep.” I ran my hand through Khaos’s fur and snuggled into his side. “See?” I forced an optimistic tone. “This is all going to work out.”

“Mila.” It was a scolding if I ever heard one.

I lifted my head to see Ronan in the doorway, his eyes narrowed.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, embarrassment sliding through me at him hearing my pathetic monologue.

“Long enough to know fucking a mobster wouldn’t look good on your scholarship application.”

Ugh.

“Eavesdropper,” I muttered.

“What did I tell you about the dog?” he said harshly.

“His name is Khaos. And he and I are cool now.”

“You still have five stitches from him biting you,” he deadpanned.

Brow furrowed, I glanced down at my wrist. “Yeah, when am I supposed to get these out again?”

“Mila.” His soft but no-nonsense tone drew my full attention. “Come.”

The single word slipped through my blood with a mixture of hot and cold water. As much as I was tempted to fall into Ronan’s bed just to forget everything for a little while, my heart couldn’t handle the act of saying goodbye with my body tonight and my mouth tomorrow.

I couldn’t say goodbye twice.

I shook my head.

His eyes hardened. “It wasn’t a request, kotyonok.”

Throat tight, I shook my head again, saying, “I can’t.”

Ronan took a step into the room, pulling a growl from Khaos’s throat. Ronan ignored him. “You’re coming, Mila, even if I have to carry you out.”

Feeling confident with the growling German shepherd beside me, I said, “No. I’m staying in my own room tonight.”

Of course, Ronan moved toward me, not stopping even when Khaos got to his feet on the bed and bared his teeth in a menacing growl.

“Ronan, stop.” My heart raced. “He’s going to bite you.”

“I’ll stop when you come with me.”

Unconcerned, he took another step, and when Khaos’s growl grew lethal, his hackles rising, I blurted, “Okay! Okay, I’ll come with you.”

Gah. The man was insufferable.

I slid off the bed and smoothed Khaos’s hackles down. “It’s okay, buddy. He isn’t going to hurt me.” At least, not physically. When the German shepherd settled a little, I turned to Ronan. “I’ll come if Khaos can sleep here tonight. He likes my bed.” I’d even set up a bowl of water and a plate of pumpkin pie I found in the kitchen.

Ronan wasn’t impressed. “Fine. But shut the door. My brother and his family are still here. And your dog is a nutcase.”

“You’re a nutcase.”

“You were the one involved in a porridge catfight downstairs.”

“She pulled my hair,” I explained simply and shut the door behind me.

His eyes darkened. “That won’t ever happen again. Nobody pulls your hair except me.”

Apparently, Ronan was just going to pretend tomorrow wasn’t happening. The lance of resentment burning through me only reaffirmed my decision to make a break for it and find a hiding place until morning. I couldn’t sleep with Ronan tonight. I couldn’t handle it emotionally, physically—any of the —allys.

He turned toward his room.

I sprinted down the hall in the opposite direction.

A rough exhale. A growled, “Mila.” And then the sound of his expensive boots on my trail. I flew down the stairs, frantically thinking of a good place to hide. In my haste, I barreled into the dining room and came to a full stop when I saw Gianna, Christian, and Kat enjoying a nice family meal.

I panted, chest heaving.

Gianna hid a laugh.

“Uh-oh,” Kat murmured. “Mila is in trouble.”

Ronan grabbed me by the waist and pulled me off my feet. “Make sure you try the vatrushka,” he said nonchalantly. “Polina makes the best.”

Christian gave his brother an indecipherable look before Ronan swung me into his arms and carried me up the stairs. I could fight him, but now his masculine scent surrounded me and confused my senses. His warmth soaked into my skin, forcing the resistance to melt within.

He dropped me on his bed and straddled my hips. “You shouldn’t have heard any of that.”

I knew he was speaking about what Nadia had told me.

I swallowed. “Because I’m too weak to handle it?”

He shackled my wrists above my head. “Because you’re so sweet you fucking glow.” His eyes darkened. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you.”

“Don’t kill Nadia.”

“That’s still open for debate, but right now . . .” His lips ran up my throat. “Ty mne nuzhna.” I need you.

The deep rasp brushed my skin, burned my heart, and made the decision for me. I arched my neck to allow him more access, giving him what he needed even knowing he would be the one to destroy me.