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“I’m busy,” I snap, then stop short as a loud explosion shatters the air. Sergey’s head snaps backward from a sudden force, the back of his skull spattering the wall behind him. He jerks violently and then goes still, crimson liquid slowly dripping onto the floor beneath the chair.
“There. Looks like your schedule just cleared up,” Dimitri says, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants. The silence that follows is heavy, filled with the weight of what just happened.
I want to argue, to push back against their demands. But I can feel the anger inside me starting to ebb, replaced by a sense of weariness that is all-consuming. It is as if the fight has gone from me, and I’m left feeling strangely deflated.
Dimitri and Erik exchange a look as if they are communicating wordlessly. It is a sign of the deep bond that binds us together, a brotherhood forged in the crucible of violence and death.
“Come, Luka,” Erik says, his voice softening. “Let’s go upstairs and celebrate your homecoming.”
I groan, but I do what he says, falling in step with them as we leave the basement. I’m numb inside, head reeling from the rush of rage I just succumbed to.
We move through the lavish halls of my mansion, and I admire the luxurious decor Erik and Dimitri had set up while I was in jail. Crystal chandeliers reflect a warm light over the room, and paintings and sculptures speak of my wealth and power. As we navigate the endless rooms and passageways, I am awed by their efforts but remain steadfast in my goal to reclaim what is mine.
The party is in full swing as I step through the door of the grand ballroom. Laughter and conversation mix with the tinkling of glasses and swish of silk as guests mingle. I am accosted almost immediately.
“Luca Ivankov,” a woman purrs. “You must be so…pent up after all that time locked away. I’d love to help you release that tension.” The flirtatious vixen sidles up to me, her fingers trailing like fire along my arm, pushing her huge tits toward my chest.
My body is fucking hungry for touch, for carnal pleasure. Four goddamn years in jail have left me starved and desperate for intimacy, and I can’t fucking deny that my libido is in overdrive. But there’s not a chance in hell I’m screwing this woman.
What’s gotten into me?
“Go find someone else,” I snarl, ice coating my words.
She gapes at me, taken aback by my frigid dismissal. Desperate to save face, she forces a smile and saunters away, setting her sights on some other unsuspecting prey.
The bass thumps through my body as I move through the party, feeling the eyes of countless women on me. They are drawn to the danger that surrounds me, the hint of violence that lingers in the air. I should be reveling in the attention, drowning in pussy. Instead, I make my way through the throng, avoiding engagement.
Finally, I stand in a corner, observing the cattle parade. The mansion is filled with the rich and powerful of the city. The glamorous set, the beautiful people… But my attention is drawn to a clumsy waitress who keeps stumbling over her own feet.
I coughed out a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Dimitri asks as he joins me.
“Her.” I grin at him, nodding toward the waitress. “That girl over there. She’s a walking disaster.”
Erik chuckles as he slides up beside us and peers in the direction I’ve been staring for the past half hour. “Don’t tell me you’ve found yourself another clumsy bitch.”
I shoot him a look of warning.
Dimitri shakes his head. “You can’t deny it, Luka. You’ve always had a soft spot for the underdogs.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t deny the truth of his words. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to be underestimated, to be counted out before the game has even begun.
But as I watch the waitress stumble and nearly drop her tray again, I can feel something stirring inside me that goes beyond just entertainment. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been locked up for four years with nothing but my own hand for company. I watch her as she makes her way around the room, her tray of drinks shaking in her hands.
“She looks like a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time,” I mutter. But there’s something alluring about the way she moves, like she’s dancing to a song only she can hear.
Erik raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying you have a thing for baby giraffes?”
I pay him no attention. Instead, I weave through the crowd and move closer to the tasty little brunette.
Well, well, well. It seems I’ve just found the cure for a very dull evening.
Chapter 2
Sophia
48 hours before the party
