AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Adrienne Paolo was going to be the death of me—that was a fact I didn’t need to deny. Sitting in this dark container with these freaking Chicago Al Capone was the last place I really wanted to be, especially not when I had an ass as soft as Adrienne’s to get back to.
It’d been five fucking hours since I left her earlier today, yet I couldn’t get the image of her naked body out of my head. Her delicate olive skin, her full breasts that kicked every sexual nerve in me into action, and Christ, her loud moans.
I took a pack of cigarettes out of my suit jacket, pinned one between my lips, and lit it. Every pop sent smoke and dirty images of my little slut to my head. I’d even lost control and fucked her so roughly that her skin was purple with marks this morning. It was probably for the best that I marked my territory on things that were mine.
My phone bleeped; it was a message from Mikhail. He’d sent a picture of Adrienne’s tattoo; she’d made one that looked almost like mine except for the fact that the skeletons on hers were smiling. My malysh had a fucking sense of humor, which I needed to set her straight on tonight.
Another bleep came in an hour later. It was a message from the bank telling me she’d spent fifty thousand dollars of my ill-gotten money on clothes. I wondered if she knew she’d have to pay for it. I had to think of a way for her to do that. Having her wrap her smart mouth around my dick and sucking it like her life depended on it probably wasn’t a bad start.
The previous bleep was followed by another one, still from the bank, which I ignored. And then another one from Mikhail. Adrienne was sitting in a café with a guy, surrounded by shopping bags. Her smile was brighter than I’d ever seen it.
My jaw clenched, and my heartbeat doubled—this feeling was new. It made me want to smash something, to kill someone, and I knew who. I hated that Adrienne was sharing the smile meant for me alone with some other dude.
Me: Send the location.
Mikhail: typing…
I shot up from the chair and gave the men in the container my meanest stare. “Let’s have this meeting some other time, something more important came up.” I saw the displeasure in their eyes before I turned my back on them, and I didn’t give a flying fuck because they knew better than to try to argue with me.
My car was already out of the driveway when Mikhail’s text came in. I pulled into the road like I was reenacting Fast and the Furious, at a speed of 120 meters per hour. It was either I drove straight to hell or the fucker sitting with Adrienne went straight to his maker. I knew which option I preferred.
I reached the clothing store less than twenty minutes later and parked beside Mikhail. “Where are they?”
He nudged his head in the direction of the café, and I started inside. As soon as I reached the door, Adrienne stood as if she wanted to leave, and the piece of shit held her back by her hands that only I was supposed to touch.
My own speed scared me as I hit the guy, causing him to fall on his back on the ground. He hadn’t had the opportunity to react when my hand met his face again, again, and again. Before I could bring myself to stop, his face was already an unrecognizable mess with blood exiting his nose, a busted lip, and a purple, swollen face while my hand was bloody and bruised.
“Stop it, Andrei!” Adrienne’s voice came muffled from the background in a plea. The fact that she was begging me to leave this guy who dared to touch her made my pulse race even more. I gave him more punches, leaving him only after he’d passed out.
Adrienne’s eyes were wide with shock and her hands were thrown over her mouth when I looked at her.
“Go outside, Adrienne.”
She didn’t move. Her eyes were still dilated in horror. What did she expect when she was driving me so fucking insane?
“Out, now!”
She flinched at my roar, then picked up her shopping bags and left the café. I tried to steady my breath and calm the storm raging inside of me before joining her outside. I asked Mikhail to tidy up the damage I’d done before sliding into my car.
Adrienne’s lashes were wet, as if she’d been crying, and I didn’t want to console her because I was so fucking mad myself. I ignited the car and drove us home.
Adrienne was the first to leave the car when we reached home. She banged the door so hard they’d probably moved out of place and stormed inside, abandoning the clothes she’d spent my money on. I followed her immediately, calling her name and radiating with anger as she ignored me, went up to her bedroom, and locked the door behind her.
“Open the door,” I called from outside, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
She ignored me.
I hit the door. “Don’t make me break it down, Adrienne.”
“Do your fucking worst, asshole,” she yelled from inside.
This woman was driving me beyond my limit. “Don’t test my patience, malysh.” I didn’t mean for it to come out as a roar, but it did.
I kept banging on the door for the next few minutes while Adrienne completely ignored me. I moved back and with one kick of my leg, the door flew open. Adrienne was still wearing the dress she came back with, and she looked stunned that I’d actually managed to open the door.
She probably hadn’t learned that I didn’t bluff.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
