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“... I desire you, Juliana Blair. Every single inch of you.” His mouth drew closer to mine and he stroked my cheek with his thumb. It was the first time he had called me by my name. His warm breath covered my skin with goose bumps. “I know a good woman when I see one, I will not treat you like a common whore. My values don’t allow me to.” He stopped stroking my bare skin and stared deep into my soul.
“I will give you my name. And then, I will claim you.” His eyes followed down my body, “I want all of you–body, mind, and soul.”
“So ... so, you are respecting me?”
His thumb found my lips. He tugged on my bottom lip; his eyes darkening when he spoke. “I won’t be when I do things to you that you cannot even imagine.”
Butterflies twirled in my stomach, and I forgot how to breathe. His eyes no longer held promises of pain and torture, but a hint of the continuation from where we’d abruptly stopped earlier.
I hated myself for being so responsive to the man who had a gun pointed at Liam. Ava was also held somewhere, locked up. I could feel the heaviness weighing in my heart and secretly wondered if they were still alive.
I pushed his chest, creating enough distance to think. I glared at him, hoping that with one look into my eyes, he could see how much I loathed him. “Never!” I took a stance.
He backed away with a careless shrug as if this banter was ordinary and had no significance. “Then, your friend Ava stays locked up.”
Typical. Blackmail. “I will never marry a monster like you!”
I roared, frustrated, and stomped towards the door. “I hate you for doing this to me.”
He unlocked a drawer at his desk, took out an Eye of the Dragon Vodka that cost millions of dollars— proving just how filthy rich and unbothered he was— and raised it in the air. A kind of toast, before he said four words that rammed straight into my heart like a dagger.
“I couldn’t care less.”
Chapter 8 – Rafail
I did care. And it troubled me when I discovered how much I did.
She had looked me in the eye and called me a monster. A word I had heard a thousand times, a name I had been called by many people before I met her, and yet somehow hers stung and left a bitter taste.
I fingered the steel ring on my little finger and thought about how I could get past the fucking hole I had dug myself into. I couldn't understand why, as simple, and as ordinary as she was, she had such an effect on me.
But I wasn't given much time to think. A brisk knock on the door cut my thoughts short. The handle went down, and Viktor's head peeked through.
“Rafa, you've got a special visitor.”
I dropped my arms to the desk and adjusted in my chair. I had gone through the scheduled meetings for the day and, judging by that, I had the hour to myself. Whoever it was had intentionally showed up unannounced.
My hand hovered over the top drawer where I kept my gun. “Who?”
“Relax.” The corner of his mouth curled upwards.” It’s your uncle.”
Uncle Oleg?
Victor stepped aside as the old man entered. He strutted like a proud horse and supported his left leg with a black walking cane. His smile was bright and warm, and for someone nearly seventy years old, he looked quite dapper in his navy-blue suit and polished derby shoes.
His visit took me by surprise. I rose from my seat and acknowledged his presence with a stiff smile and a curt nod. That was all I could manage. I was still preoccupied by thoughts of a certain woman.
He combed his fingers through his short silver hair and made a dramatic pause. “Rafail.”
“Privet, dyadya.[Hi, Uncle]” I walked around the desk and gestured to the black sectional sofa in the center of the room. The office was spacious enough to accommodate two long shelves in the corners and a sitting area in the center. “Please, sit.”
He was careful, took one step at a time, and straightened his cane before relaxing on the sofa. “It’s good to see you again.”
I took the seat opposite him and crossed my legs. It was shocking to see him again. “What brings you here, to New York? Are you getting bored at home?”
“Bored?” His laughter was deep and bubbly, almost like Viktor’s. “Far from it. What, am I not allowed to pay my nephew a friendly visit in his new luxurious office?” He looked over his shoulder, eyes taking in the antique clock hanging on the wall and the books on the shelves. “Not bad at all. You are doing well.”
Viktor entered shortly with glasses and a bottle of Vodka. After filling the glasses, he left. I took one and swirled the contents before throwing my head back. “Let’s get to the point, Oleg. We both know that you are far from basing your actions on sentiments. If you are here, there must be a good reason for it.”
