Chapter 12
Chapter 12
When the chaos finally settled, night still pressed down hard.
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A policewoman, worried Natasha might crack, offered to take her to the hotel, only to be shooed away with a “I just want to be alone.”
Natasha stood frozen before the rubble heap, minutes bleeding out, before finally dragging a leg gone pins and needles.
At her car, just as her fingers brushed the door handle, a rustle in the weeds alarmed her.
Calmly, she popped the door, grabbed the pocket knife from the glovebox, and slow–stepped
toward the shadows.
Parting the overgrown weeds, she froze. Under a sky speckled raw with stars, a man lay sprawled— all sharp edges and icy stillness. Even flat on his back, she could tell he towered. Looming frame, stupidly perfect build.
His eyes—the kind that’d pull one in and swallow one whole–were shut tight. Blood, now dried and cracked, streaked across his face. Made those already cut–glass features look carved from Arctic stone–detached, refusing to soften.
Most importantly, Natasha knew this man.
She nudged the unconscious man with her toe. “Tsk. Who’s this poor little stray?” She drank in the blood–streaked, broken beauty for precisely three heartbeats before spurning on her heel and walking away.
But halfway through her turn, bone–white fingers snaked out and locked around her ankle–cold as grave dirt.
The man had opened his eyes sometime ago, staring at her in amazement with his deep eyes. “To treat your savior so cruelly? Miss Clark is really heartless.”
‘Don’t all girls have soft hearts and strong morals?‘ he wondered.
Natasha wasn’t surprised that he knew her name. When the police chief scrambled out, sweating bullets, to greet him that day, she knew this guy wasn’t just anyone.
So what?
She snorted. “Every damn crime show screams it: Never pick up stray men on the roadside. And hey, Mr. Savior—has nobody told you you’re giving off major fugitive killer vibes right now?”
‘Seriously, what kind of saint bleeds out in a weed pile at midnight?‘ she said inwardly.
Alexei, who’d personally dumped two men into wolf dens tonight, let out a dark chuckle. “Damn
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right I am. But since when did a killer and an arsonist not make a match made in hell?”
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His eyes pinned Natasha’s suddenly stormy face. Though flat on the ground, being looked down upon, he had an air of superiority that could see through people’s hearts.
*****
Anyway, even though she was fuming, Natasha still fell for Alexei’s trap.
She brought him back to her apartment and casually tossed the guy who had intentionally draped his arm over her shoulder onto the sofa.
The move wasn’t gentle at all; Alexei grunted.
“Are you really not going to the hospital?” she asked.
“No need. Someone will come by later.”
Natasha looked at his severe–looking wounds, hesitating whether to say something.
“Huh? Getting soft on me?” Alexei’s brow arched, mockery dancing in his eyes.
Natasha stared back dead serious. “Nope. Just don’t need you bleeding out on my property, terrible
for the resale value.”
“Relax. Even if I do kick the bucket, my cleanup crew’s got it handled.”
“Your squad can haul away corpses but not haul your live ass outta here?” Natasha practically had “Get out, now!” flashing neon on her face, her nose scrunched, lips pressed thin.
Alexei forced down the corners of his lips that were curling up into a smile. “No, because I need to give you a chance to repay me.”
Natasha’s face fell.
Alexei kept cracking jokes, but his guard never dropped. After a couch break to catch his breath, he pushed through the pain and casually scoped the whole apartment–leaning on walls, testing locks, clocking every exit.
Blood loss turned his face ghost–white. Natasha winced at the phantom pain–yet not a damn sound escaped him.
The skilled way he surveyed the apartment? Certified hazard.
Natasha tuned it out like static.
She wasn’t curious or interested in knowing more about him; she just wanted this hot potato gone as soon as possible.
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Her life was already chaotic enough; she didn’t want any more excitement.
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By the time Alexei finished spinning around and collapsed onto the rug in front of the sofa, dizzy and exhausted, Natasha was already in the kitchen, just kept on cooking her pasta.
In these few short days, so many things happened that she hadn’t even had a proper meal yet.
After all those crazy emotional ups and downs, the only thing she felt when she got back to her little nest was starving.
Ten minutes later, she set the bowl of pasta down on the table. Only then did she dawdle over to take a look at the guy on the floor.
She noticed in the car that this guy had incredible endurance. Most people would have passed out from losing so much blood, but he stayed alert and kept an eye on his surroundings, constantly checking the rearview mirror.
Either he really committed a crime, or someone was after him for revenge.
If he didn’t look like some rich heir, she would think he was a dangerous thug.
“Hey, you still alive?” She didn’t bother bending down, kicking him with one foot.
Back in a safe environment, Natasha had changed into a white long dress, barefoot.
Her pretty face was tight with tension. As she moved, her slender legs swayed a little, and her tiny, pale ankles caught the light like pure white marble.
Seeing no reaction from him, she tried stepping on his chest with her smooth red–painted toes again.
His heart was still beating strong, luckily.
Natasha stepped harder on it a few times.
She’d wanted to do this to him ever since back in the car, when he was scaring her with all the terrifying punishments his enemies might do if they caught her. Now was the perfect time to get
back at him.
Suddenly, his chilly hand grasped her tiny foot.
“Ah-” she let out a scream.
Alexei helplessly watched the woman, whose eyes revealed a hint of guilt mixed with forced composure after getting caught red–handed.
He wasn’t completely unconscious anyway, and no patient could withstand such treatment.
If he didn’t wake up soon, her foot might end up on his face.
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Chapter 12
Anyway, it felt pretty soft.
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Every time he ran into her, it was like he had some serious touch–starvation. He just couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, giving her a little poke or pinch.
Alexei did exactly that, giving her an automatic little pinch, while mentally kicking himself.
Smack!
Time froze.
He’d just taken a foot straight to the jaw.
That was what he got for not keeping his hands to himself.
Alexei’s chest was heaving heavily as he grabbed her foot and pressed it back against his chest.
The uncleaned blood stains on his hands smudged onto her pristine white feet, creating a stark red and white contrast as if she’d been tainted too.
His deep, dark eyes were unreadable.
“Mr. Turner!” Suddenly, two guys barged into the apartment from outside.
Natasha’s eyes widened as she looked at the intruders. One was Shawn, Alexei’s assistant, whom she had met at the police station that day. The other was a thin man with messy hair and sleepy eyes, carrying a first–aid kit.
No need to ask; this must be who Alexei mentioned.
Natasha shot a look that was both scandalized and stunned–first sweeping over the gaping intruder, then glaring down at the man still pinned under her foot.
The message was crystal clear: “Trespassing? You can even pick locks? You call yourselves law- abiding citizens?”
But Shawn and Dylan were even more shocked than she was,
‘Oh my god! Someone save us! What are we even seeing?! That iceberg, the one who’s allergic to
who’d toss a naked beauty to the wolves without blinking, is pinned under some woman’s
foot.
And he looks totally into it, cradling her foot like he never wants to let go. Plus, didn’t Mr. Turner get hurt? How’s he still playing games like this? Dude’s seriously strong!
‘Are we gonna get whacked for seeing this today?‘
Shawn and Dylan stood awkwardly at the door, caught between a rock and a hard place.
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Chapter 12
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It was like they were accidentally watching a couple doing something private, which was pretty embarrassing.
