AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She got closer to cutting me than she had any right to. I underestimated her.
Panting heavily, I grip her against my body. We’re sandwiched tight, her heartbeat rattling against mine. Still, she continues her struggle, working to get the knife into my flesh. I give her wrist a sharp squeeze and she cries out. The knife clatters loudly at our feet. I don’t look; I’m focused on her face, watching her frustration as it continues to boil over.
“And what, I wonder,” I whisper in amazement, “do you think will happen to you if my guards find me dead and you are holding the knife?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care!”
Shoving myself to my feet, I knock my chair over. Galina spins in my hands until I have her pinned against the table. She wriggles wildly, her hips slamming into my pelvis. If she meant it to hurt, she failed. All it does is rile me up further.
Winding my fist into her hair, I pull until the strands come loose from her bun. She yelps, but my other hand on her throat quiets her. I lean down and whisper in her ear, savoring the feeling of her lithe body pressed so closely against mine.
“It’s been a long time since I allowed anyone to get that close to killing me, ptichka.”
Galina shudders, turning her head to glare at me from one eye. “It won’t be the last time I try.”
Tension ripples along my spine. I’m not afraid of her, not the way I’d fear an assassin. Galina isn’t a physical threat. It’s what she’s doing to my mind that worries me. All of my muscles, my weapons, are useless against an emotional attack. Somehow, instead of me riling her up, she’s doing it to me.
And she’s doing a much better job at it. My hand fists in her hair, my breath quickens, and my cock starts to swell, straining painfully against my pants as it demands to be let loose. Galina continues to glare at me, her hateful stare daring me to do something and prove that I am every bit the monster she thinks I am.
Letting go of her, I take a step back. “ Dinner is over.”
She doesn’t argue as she stalks away, her head held high, her hair a mess, and her heels clicking on the wooden floorboards with every step. Nothing in her posture indicates that she lost our battle. I could’ve killed her if I wanted to. But she won.
And she knows it.
Sitting heavily in my chair, I stare at our plates of food. Galina didn’t touch anything. In fact, she actively refuses every kind gesture I make. I’ve never had someone reject me so thoroughly. My mind is frazzled as it tries to process what the hell just happened.
A ringing comes from my pocket. Still distracted, I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“You’re not going to get away with this.”
An icy waterfall drenches me, clearing my mind of the haze of Galina. The voice on the line is thick, gritty, and easy to recognize.
“Yevgeniy,” I say, “I was almost starting to get worried you wouldn’t call.”
“Act as calm as you want, you petukh. I’m not joking around. You will pay for this stunt of yours.”
He hangs up before I can respond. Holding my phone at arm’s length, I start to laugh. The sound grows quickly until I’m gripping my knees, bent over in my chair from the overwhelming mirth. He called to threaten me. All he proved was that I made the right choice by bringing Galina here.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” a woman’s voice asks sardonically. Sitting up, I see that Mila has arrived. She’s wearing her typical outfit—I’ve never seen her in anything else—a pair of black jeans and a black tank-top, her cropped jacket shining the way well-worn leather does. Her short, raven-black hair bounces as she approaches. With her snowy skin, she might as well be a walking monochromatic photo.
“I just learned I have the trump card to ending Yevgeniy right here under my roof.”
She scans the table of leftovers. “Is that why you’re eating two dinners all alone? You get any bigger, and you won’t fit through doors anymore.”
I deflate slightly. “My guest wasn’t hungry.”
Sitting in Galina’s chair, Mila picks up her fork, then searches quickly. “Who eats steak without a knife?” Not waiting for my answer, she reaches over, taking mine.
“What are you doing?”
“This is a dinner for two, right?” Stabbing the meat with her fork, Mila saws through the tender cut of steak. The chunk she holds up glistens in the low lights. “Unless you think your guest is going to come back?” She gives me a pointed look. “Didn’t think so.” Shoving the food into her mouth, she chews, then arches her back overdramatically. “Damn, that’s good!”
“Your table manners are atrocious.”
“Please, you love it,” she mumbles through her full mouth. Grabbing the bottle of wine, she adds more to Galina’s glass, even though it was already half full. Tossing back a long swallow, she lets out a gasp. “Who do I need to kill,” she starts, “for you to break out the good stuff?”
“Is this your way of implying I don’t pay you enough?”
