Page 72 of Sinful Lord

That is, until my mind suddenly fills with the image of what I left to come here.

Melina.

Even as I try to swat her from my thoughts, her warmth sticks. She’s all alone in that little apartment. Asleep. Vulnerable.

I need to survive. For her sake.

My fists unclench.

“I know exactly who you are,” the voice says. His hand falls on my shoulder and I’m roughly turned around. “Tytus Ryzdon.”

The barrel quickly finds a new place right between my eyes, making it hard to see who’s holding the gun.

“You better kill me quick,” I instinctively snarl. “Otherwise, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

My only hope is that this fucker does something rash. Something I can take advantage of.

But that hope is quickly put to rest.

“No. I’m not going to kill you, Tytus,” the blurry figure reveals. “Not until you help me find my niece.”

With that, the gun retreats slightly from my skull, and I get a clear look at the fucker who got the jump on me.

The sight is like a hard punch to the gut.

“Fuck,” I grunt, immediately recognizing the face.

It’s Maksim Smolov.

Melina’s uncle.

16

Melina

I shouldn’t be this upset.

Actually, that’s not true. I should be far more upset than I am, but for different reasons.

Yet here I am, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my broken doorway, not so subtly hoping that Tytus will appear again.

Shit.

Why did he have to leave?

My fluttering heart sinks.

How could he leave?

That’s what I’m most upset about. Not that Tytus Ryzdon—my family’s most dangerous rival, my best friend’s older brother, my stalker—stole my first kiss. It’s not even that he was the first person to ever make me cum.

It’s that he reached into my chest and found my soul; he caressed it and made me feel so good I nearly shattered; and then he left, like it all meant nothing to him.

I wish it meant nothing to me.

But it doesn’t. It can’t. There’s no going back. He was my first.

And I want more.