When Maddox moves for me, I yank away from him. “J—”
“No!” I scream, refusing to acknowledge the remorse in his eyes. “Nikolai isn’t dead! I’d know if he were dead. I’d fucking know it.”
My unusual use of a curse word doesn’t lessen the impact of my statement. It is the most confident one I’ve issued the past five years. Nothing can take away from my certainty.
“I somehow got from Florida to Vegas with my life intact. That wouldn’t have occurred without Nikolai’s help.”
Trey steps closer to me, his eyes as repentant as Maddox’s. “The Vasilievs used a subsidiary entity to bid on you last year. You’re only alive because they see you as an asset.”
“What?” I have a million questions streaming through my head, but with words eluding me, I went for the easiest one.
“I’ll call a physician to check you over. He’s very discreet. I assure you, nothing you tell him willeverleave this room.”
Trey’s words sicken me even more than the thought of my baby being injured from Maxsim’s goon, but it does nothing to douse the fire brewing in my gut. “I don’t need a doctor!”
My brisk leap to my feet nearly makes the towel slip off my body, but I don’t care. Just like I know Nikolai isn’t dead, I’m confident the worry in Trey’s eyes holds no merit.
“I also wasn’traped.” My last word is barely a whisper. “Nikolai wouldneverlet that happened. He’d kill any man stupid enough to get within an inch of me.”
My eyes rocket to Maddox when he mutters, “He couldn’t protect you from the grave, J.”
“Then I’m lucky he isn’t dead, aren’t I?!” Anger minces up my words, making them more hostile than confirming.
Hating the incredulous look on Maddox’s face, I charge to my dresser in the corner of the room. Even with his belief Nikolai can’t punish him for seeing me in a vulnerable state, Trey’s eyes snap to the ground the instant my towel slips from my body.
Not the slightest bit worried he may see my scars, I yank a pair of sweatpants up my legs. The fleece material lining the pants is a poor choice considering how blistering hot my skin is, but they’re the closest article of clothing I have, so they’ll have to do.
After throwing one of Nikolai’s shirts over my braless torso, I pivot on my heels to face Trey. “Where are the men?”
When Maddox steps forward to baby me as he did earlier, I yell, “Where are my men?!”
“They’re in the den.”
I’m out the door before half of Trey’s reply leaves his mouth. And even faster than that, he’s at my side like he usually is at Nikolai’s when they’re preparing for battle.
“What are you planning?” Trey’s words are chopped up by his giant galloping steps as he follows me through the Popov mansion.
I already have a bucket load of determination fueling my steps, but the large diamond on my left hand strengthens my reply.
“I’m going to fulfill the role I was born to live. I’m going to be Nikolai’s queen.”
16
My willpower getsbitch-slapped when I enter the den in the middle of the Popov compound. It’s clear the men filling the space are in mourning, but that isn’t the cause for my backpedaling. It is the whores easing their heartache. There are as many scantily clad women as there are men, and just as many empty bottles of whiskey.
The scandalous scene matches ones I walked in on many times after Vladimir’s reign was ended by Nikolai’s blade. It’s just missing the all-in orgies that resulted in their celebrations being banned from the main compound. For the past twelve months, this level of filth has only occurred at Clarks.
“The man responsible for your unlimited shots of whiskey, endless whores, andgod knows what elseis missing, yet instead of trekking to the end of the earth to find him, you take advantage of his generosity. You should be grateful Nikolai isn’t here, because none of you would be spared his wrath.”
My voice doesn’t quiver in the slightest, not even when a long-term associate of the Popov entity stumbles my way. He is older than most of the men in the room, hitting close to mid-sixties. I’ve seen him around a few times, but it is generally when Nikolai is on overnight trips.
Kliment was one of Vladimir’s advisors before he was removed from his position for getting friendly with two of Vladimir’s favorite whores. Vladimir was a vile, abhorrent man, but he was as possessive of his whores as he was his wives.
“Perhaps you should join us. It appears as if you’re enjoying the view.”
Kliment raises his hand to brush it down the bud pressing against my shirt, but before he gets within an inch of my chest, Trey seizes his hand, yanks him forward, then whispers in his ear.
I assume Trey’s hushed words are the cause of Kliment’s whitening cheeks, but I’m proven wrong when Kliment takes a step back. Even the dark coloring of his shirt can’t hide the massive bloodstain seeping into it. He’s been stabbed in the chest, his punishment delivered by Trey in the exact manner Nikolai would have requested.
