The full weight of his gaze could rival a shock wave. “When I fuck you, kotyonok, I promise, you’ll use ‘fuck’ in more ways than I ever fucking have.” Turned inside out by his words and the intensity in his stare, it became a battle not to avert my gaze or shift in my seat. The crass promise slowed my breath, but what sent an annoying surge of liquid heat to the pit of my stomach was the fact he knew how to use each part of speech properly. He even got the adverb right. “Versatile enough for you?” he asked. His expression spoke volumes. Ronan: 1 Mila: 0 Unable to give it up, I muttered, “The ‘fucking’ was a little gratuitous.” “Thought you weren’t a sore loser.” I silently mused on his response. I’d never been a competitive person, but every conversation with Ronan seemed like a fight I needed to win. Maybe being kidnapped by a Russian mobster changed a girl, or maybe I just wanted to peel back the edges of his skin to reveal the monster beneath. It wasn’t fair he could cloak himself so easily in a handsome face and designer suits. He stood, slipped his phone into his pocket, and buttoned his jacket. “PII see you tomorrow, kotyonok.” Then he walked out of the room without another word, leaving me alone once again, as if I was a mere fly of a thought swallowed whole by his plans for world domination. He never answered my question, but his indifference and retreat invoked the idea I was wrong; that planning to manipulate my body and soul had never crossed his mind. Now, I felt ridiculous for coming to that conclusion. If he wanted to sleep with me so much, he could just take it. He wasn’t exactly anyone’s definition of a soft-handed man. Maybe he didn’t care enough to force the issue. Maybe these morning “dates” satisfied his desire for a side of ridicule with his breakfast. I twirled my spoon in the bowl of porridge he didn’t force me to eat. An uneasy feeling swelled in my stomach. Disgustingly, I wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact Ronan might be losing interest in me or that the remaining hours of my papa’s life were ticking down on the timeclock. The most revolting part of the scenario didn’t have to do with either of those things. As Ronan’s back disappeared from view, taking his “fucks”