Page 43 of Unholy Tsar

MAKSIM

I watch my computer screen as Dante and Cecilia get into the elevator. Immediately, I’m suspicious. Something is off. She’s different. There’s a new determination in the way she carries herself.

My suspicion deepens when the elevator stops on the second floor and she hesitates before getting out.

What are you up to, little one?

I switch my screen to the camera in the gym. Cecilia stands stiffly, holding herself as she scans the large room filled with men. Then she looks up at Dante and asks a question.

Fuck, I wish I had audio. I shift in my chair and lean closer to the screen as Dante answers. Her shoulders droop in disappointment. A twinge of regret hits me. Dare I think she’s disappointed because Dante told her he’ll be taking over her lesson today?

Once again, Nolan took Bree out of today’s session. Another blind date. Why is he suddenly pushing his daughter into these meetings? Does he think marrying her off will keep her safe? No. He’s not that foolish. There must be something else going on.

I make a mental note to text him tonight. Bree needs these lessons. She’s too naïve for her own good. Too trusting. Look at how she let Cecilia into our inner circle—a stranger.

A gorgeous, feisty stranger.

Fuck.

When I found out Bree wouldn’t be joining us for today’s lesson, I knew I had to pull out too. Just the thought of being alone with Cecilia again made me ravenous. I’ve already jerked off half a dozen times since then, trying to calm myself. But nothing works. She makes me feel young and reckless again. I’m desperate for more.

And that’s how I knew I was getting too close to this mysterious girl.

I need to keep my distance. It’s the only way to stay objective and ensure everyone’s safety.

That’s why I asked Dante to take over the lesson for me. He agreed, and in that moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

But now? I’m not so sure.

A heavy emptiness fills my chest as I watch Dante hand Cecilia the gun we used yesterday. That should be me.

As always, Cecilia is impatient and hardly listens to Dante’s instructions before starting target practice. She isn’t good. Her technique is sloppy, and I can see Dante trying to correct her, but it’s like she’s wearing earplugs. Soon, her attention wanes. It looks like she’s over the lesson, and it’s hardly even begun.

Her attempts become half-hearted at best.

“You’re standing all wrong, Myshka.” I murmur. “And why are you holding the gun like that? That’s not what I taught you yesterday.”

Dante runs a hand through his hair, visibly drawing a deep breath before taking the gun from her. Never one to give up so easily, he stands in front of the target and demonstrates the correct stance, but she’s not even looking at him. Instead, she’s started to look up. Her eyes wander across the ceiling, searching for something. And then—she raises her fist and shakes it at the camera.

Ahh, is that what she was looking for? Me.

When Dante realizes what’s happening, he finally seems to give up. Cecilia gestures harshly at the camera, her mouth moving wildly as I can imagine her asking if I’m watching them.

I lean in, slightly amused by her antics. Then Cecilia cranks her neck up so her mouth is clearly visible. I zoom in, trying to read her lips.

I. won’t. Listen. Unless. You. Teach. Me. Yourself.

You little minx.

She repeats herself one more time, then walks to the low bench next to the locker and plops down. Damn it.

I’m frustrated as all hell… but also somewhat entertained. She’s never boring, that’s for sure. But she needs to be taught who’s really in charge here. And only one man can give her that lesson.

Leaving my office, I tuck my growing erection under my belt. Fuck, why does she have to be so damn stubborn? I’m already on the brink of losing control.

As I step into the elevator, a text comes through from Dante.

DANTE: