Battling against threatening tears, I direct my eyes away from the cold-hearted stranger sitting next to me. In the process of diverting my eyes, I catch the leering grin of the unnamed lady sitting across from me. Humor lines her heavily made-up face, and her eyes are brimmed with amusement.
Noticing she has captured my attention, her evil grin enlarges. “Do you want to know whatshlyukhameans?” she asks me, her words laced with vindictiveness.
Not willing to participate in the belittling games of this corrupt family, I shake my head before lowering my eyes to my barely touched plate of food. With my stomach swirling from the tension in the air, my usually robust appetite is waning.
Any chance of easing the squishiness of my stomach falters when Nikolai remarks, “Shlyukhameans whore,Ahren.”
My heart drops into my stomach as my eyes rocket to Nikolai. I don’t need him to repeat his explanation. All the evidence I need projects from the amused gaze of every set of eyes gawking at me. They’re mocking and full of torment.
“If you had fallen into my lap instead of Rico’s, I would have cut out the tongue of every man who dared speak of you with such disrespect,” Nikolai states before turning his eyes to his brother. “I wouldn’t sit by and watch my wife called a whore without reprimand.”
“Zatknis',” Rico spits off his tongue, his eyes fixed on his brother. “Ili ya zakroyu yego dlya vas.”
Rico’s words are obviously vicious, as the room falls into silence. It’s thick and tangible, and it has my pulse quickening. The smug grin Nikolai has been wearing all morning enlarges, clearly pleased he has sparked a reaction from his brother. After kissing the cheek of the lady seated beside him, Nikolai excuses himself from the table and walks out of the room with his cocky swagger on full display.
Ignoring the pain stabbing the middle of my chest, I wait for the hum of chatter to once again fill the room before shifting my eyes to Rico. “You knew they were calling me a whore, but you said nothing?” My words come out in a hiss, strained through a sob sitting at the back of my throat. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?”
“Now is not the time,” Rico replies, his words abrupt.
“They called me a whore, Rico. When is that ever appropriate?”
My voice gets louder as I battle to leash my anger, but even knowing I'm attracting stares, I can't stop my onslaught. I’m hurt that the only person who defended my honor was the man who wants me to call him Satan.
“Why would you let them call me that?”
His ticking jaw gains momentum. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“No! Tell me now!” I shout, gaining me the attention of every pair of eyes in the room.
I balk like I’ve been physically slapped when Rico snarls, “Because that's what all women are.”
Chapter 21
Before I can comprehend the repercussions of my actions, I raise my hand and slap it hard across Rico's face. The callousness of my hit forces Rico's head to sling sideways and for my palm to set on fire. Nursing my injured hand, I push back from my seat and make a beeline for the double doors at the end of the room. My heart is walloping against my ribcage, and tears are looming in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I will not give anyone in this room the satisfaction of thinking they have made me upset.
My quick exit is halted when two large men block my path. When I try to sidestep them, they move back into my way. After exhaling a nerve-cleansing breath, I raise my eyes from their boot-covered feet to their faces. I gulp harshly when I see their furious scowls.
Bile creeps up my windpipe as the severity of the situation smacks into me. I just slapped a head honcho in a Russian mob in front of his goons.Can I be any more stupid?
I grimace when one of the wide-shouldered goons grabs the tops of my arms. His hold is so rough, panic zips through my system as fragments of my past clash with my present. Flashes of being grabbed in the alleyway momentarily daze me, but when the goon shakes me—knocking my back molars together—my fighter instincts kick in. I claw at him viciously and thrash out my legs, not willing to go down without a fight for the second time.
My battle seems to irritate him more. He firms his clutch, and the redness lining his face intensifies.
The massive brute's fingers only stop digging into my bicep when a deep voice from behind me growls, "Let her go!"
Rico’s voice is so gravelly, it shakes my heart right out of my chest. Cranking my neck back, I watch him stand from his chair and urgently stride towards me. His gaze is fierce, and it sets my pulse racing.
When the goon fails to acknowledge his request, Rico snarls, “This is your last warning. Get your hands off my wife before I slit your throat and watch your body shiver as you take your last breath!”
I barely hear the collective gasps of the patrons seated at the dining table over the ringing of my pulse in my ears. Rico’s eyes show his threat is not idle; he fully intends on following through with his pledge if the goon doesn’t adhere to his warning. His whole composure is dangerous and menacing, and it sends my heart rate skyrocketing. His gaze is so toxic, the henchman drops his hands and takes a retreating step, his pupils large, his eyes wide. He looks even more frightened than I do.
After speaking to the two gentlemen accosting me in a deep Russian tone, Rico curls his arm around my sweat-slicked back and guides me out of the room. Friction plagues the air, making it hard for me to breathe, while also adding nicks to my already damaged heart. I suck in deep breaths as I tell myself on repeat that I'm safe and no one can hurt me. I’m stronger than I was ten years ago. I’ve got this. I hope.
By the time we reach the landing of the stairs, I’ve gathered back a small sense of normality. I’m still quivering like a bag of nerves, and hot, salty tears are rolling down my cheeks, but my survival mode mechanism has kicked in.
Spotting the tears streaming down my face, Rico mutters, “Kitten.” His tone is an odd mix of authoritative and nurturing.
Paying no attention to the lurking glares from the two men stationed at the end of the hallway, I pull away from Rico and angrily stride to our room. As my normal composure emerges from the thick cloud of despair, the events leading up to my frightened state steam roll back into me, particularly the part when Rico allowed me to be humiliated in front of dozens of spectators.
