Nowhere to Hide

I closed my eyes bracing myself for the slap from the stranger but it never came. Milo grabbed the man's hand before it landed on my cheek. 

"You can't touch her," he said calmly.

I had never seen him lose his cool. Not even when his son introduced a poor girl as his girlfriend. Any attempt Ivan made to agitate his father always seemed futile because he was always in control.

"That bitch–"

He knee'd the man in the stomach and pushed him away. "Don't call her that."

Two of Milo's men came forward and held the stranger down. Milo crouched down to his level and broke his hand in one swift movement. The man's screams could be heard throughout the bar. Everyone was looking at us. 

For the second time that night, the bar was so quiet you would have heard a pin drop.

"You broke my hand!" The man screamed. "I will…I will…"

The man lacked words. He knew there wasn't anything he could do against Milo. I stared in shock as he stepped on the man's already broken hand. 

"Maybe I should cut it off for thinking you have the right to slap her," he said. Before he could do anything, I grabbed his hand. "Don't cut his hand, please."

I wouldn't live with myself if anything further happened to that man because of me. 

Milo stared at my hand for a few seconds too long. I removed it immediately in fear that he would turn that anger towards me. Instead, he removed his foot from the man's hand and ordered his men to let him go. 

"Next time, I'll do more than just off your hand. No one touches her."

Everyone at the bar heard and everyone looked at me with curiosity in their eyes. I hated being the center of attention. I looked down and nervously scratched my arm. 

My heart was racing and my palms were sweating. Milo scared me to death. He was unpredictable.

Milo stood before me and lifted my chin to look at him. When his intense gray eyes found my green eyes, I almost cowered away in fear. He radiated dominance and power wherever he went. 

Something about him made anyone want to bow down and obey him.

"Go and change. You're never working in this club again."

Fear was replaced with anger. I'd seen him yesterday after two years. Who did he think he was to tell me what to do? Before I could even speak, he smirked. 

That was all he ever seemed to do–either give an evil smile or smirk. Nothing about those things indicated he was the least bit amused. He was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. 

"I can see defiance in your eyes, little girl. Do you want to test me?" He asked calmly. 

"I'm not a little girl. I'm twenty-four!" I said it a little too aggressively for his liking. 

Sure I was nineteen years his junior but there was nothing little about me. I was a grown woman with rational thoughts. 

I could see his jaw tick in anger. How could such a beautiful and magnificent man be so dangerous? I wouldn't let his looks fool me into thinking he was a good man because he was anything but. 

He may have had the looks of an angel but his heart belonged in the deepest parts of hell. 

"Don't make a scene. Go change and meet me back here. You have fifteen minutes."

There was finality in his tone, indicating the matter was not up for discussion. Realizing it was useless to argue with him, I huffed and rushed to the locker room. One of the waitresses grabbed my hand. 

"How do you know Milomir Petrov personally?" She asked. 

"I–"

"You're going to end up dead. Did you see what he did to that man? What do you think he will do to you when he's done with you? Being a gold-digger is not worth the cost of your life."

I glared at her and ripped my hand from her grasp. She didn't get to judge me when she knew nothing of my situation. 

"I heard all his mistresses go missing–"

"Look, I don't need your advice," I cut her off. The last thing I needed was for her to sell me more fear. 

I left before she could tell me anything more. Once I was in the locker room, I changed into my clothes and sat on the bench wondering what I would do. Julie, the waitress who had warned me, had a point. 

The moment I upset Milo, he would hurt me. He could kill me and nothing would happen to him. Did I really want to risk going back into the bar and leaving with a man who had no regard for human life?

What if he decided he no longer wanted me and killed me? I couldn't risk it. 

In the end, fear won. I sneaked out of the bar through the back and rushed all the way home. The entire time I was walking home, I kept looking behind me to see if Milo was following me. 

Fortunately for me, he wasn't. 

I got to my apartment thirty minutes later and made sure to lock the doors in case he tracked me down. As soon as I switched off the lights, I shrieked in fear. 

Milo was lying on my bed casually. His gun was tucked in his pants and the sleeves of his button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows. I could see tattoos and scars all over his forearm. 

The bed was too small for his huge form but he lay there like he owned the place. 

"What are you doing here?!" I asked. 

I was scared. I'd run away from him and he had tracked me down to my apartment. There hadn't been a sign of a break-in when I entered. 

"How did you find my apartment and get in?" I asked. 

He got off the bed and walked towards me. I kept walking back until my back hit the door. I had nowhere to hide. 

When he reached me, he grabbed the front of my neck and pulled me into his body. I felt the hard muscles of his body against mine and I would be lying if I said I didn't like the way the contact made me feel. 

Whenever he was close, I got all flustered and my body hummed with desire. I hated that he made every single part of me tingle. I didn't want to be attracted to the enemy. 

For some reason, my body forgot he threatened to end my father's life. If he kissed me, there was no doubt I would kiss him back.

"Why did you run away from me, little girl?" He asked. His eyes searched mine as he expectantly waited for me to answer. When I took too long to answer, he tightened the grip on my neck. 

"I-I–"

"I won't hurt you. You don't have to be scared of me."

He already knew my reasons even before I answered his questions like he could read my mind. Or maybe it was because people always held fear for him. 

"You kill people…"

"And if you do what I say, I won't have to kill you."

His words only made me more afraid of him if that was even possible. He delicately stroked my pulse with his thumb.

For a moment, I thought he was going to squeeze the life out of me and the worst part was that I would let him if he continued looking at me like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen. 

But he let me go and stepped back. 

I could see the dent on his pants indicating he felt the same things I did for him. 

"You're not living in this dump anymore. Pack your things. You're coming with me."