Page 30 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"I'm calling a meeting," he tells me. "Tomorrow, at five. Come to my office."

"Why do I need to be a part of it?" I ask, confused. "I mean, it's not like you want me to have any power here."

"Tomorrow, at five," he repeats firmly. He rises to his feet, nodding to the door. "Now, get some rest. You've had a busy day."

I stare at him for another second in complete confusion, but he says no more. Whatever he’s decided, it’s clear that he’s not letting me change his mind about it. Maybe I would be better off just going along with him for a change instead of digging my heels in and making more trouble. He doesn't seem to think I’m in any immediate danger, so perhaps I need to accept that he's right.

Whatever he has planned for tomorrow, I just have to pray that I can keep my head down until then—and that whoever the hell sent that note doesn’t try anything again before he’s taken measures to protect me and the baby.

That evening, I toss and turn all night long, unable to get any rest. I while away the next day taking a long bath and dressing carefully for this meeting. Will it be just the two of us? I don't know. The way he was talking, it sounds like he wants to lay out something in public. Maybe it's his way of trying to flush out the rat who’s been threatening me behind his back.

Come five, I make my way down the corridor, escorted by one of the guards. I steal a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if I should ask him what he knows, but I doubt it would help. None of the guards seems exactly pleased about my presence here.

Ilya is already waiting outside his office by the time I arrive. The moment his eyes lock on mine, I feel a rush of warmth to my chest. It's the weirdest thing, and I have put it entirely down to pregnancy hormones, but whenever I’m around him, I can almost feel the tension crackling in the air between us—something I’ve never felt with anyone before. Even Petar, my erstwhile boyfriend, didn’t have this kind of effect on me. It bothers me that Ilya seems so uniquely capable of snaking beneath my skin and making it impossible for me to think straight.

"This way," Ilya tells me, jerking his head to the door at the far end of the corridor.

I hesitate, wondering if I should ask him where he’s taking me, but I know it won’t help. This man has obviously already decided what he wants from me, and nothing is going to change that.

I just have to hope I can keep up.

I follow him along the corridor, and he pushes open the door, gesturing for me to step inside. Within it waits every guard who works in this mansion, plus a few more I’ve never laid eyes on. Sitting at the table are a couple dozen men, amongst them Sergei, who sits at the head of the table. They meet my arrival with an impassive gaze.

I still can’t figure out what Sergei thinks of me, whether he hates my guts or thinks I’m good for Ilya, but I guess that’s not my problem. Lifting my chin high, I take a seat at the end of the table, staring down all of the men as though daring them to say something about my presence here.

Ilya pulls the door shut behind him, closing us out from the rest of the world. There are two large windows opposite the table, but the curtains are pulled across both of them, the late-afternoon sunshine not bright enough to pick anything out, anyway.

"Gentleman," Ilya announces, as he flattens his palms on the table, looking between the men in front of him. "I would like to introduce all of you to Rose. I know some of you have already encountered her..."

He pauses for a moment, as though recalling exactly the circumstances that led to that, few of them pleasant.

"But consider this your formal introduction to the woman who is going to be the mother of my child."

I suck in a sharp breath. This is hardly the conversation I expected to be having here. By the aghast looks on the men around me, it’s not one they thought they would be having, either. A murmur of shock rockets around the room, and I look up at Ilya, trying to parse what his intentions are. He rests a hand on my shoulder, commanding and cool.

"And that means that she is as much your priority as she is mine," he goes on. "Anyone makes a move against her, I will treat it as a move against me, too. And anyone who makes a move against me..."

His face darkens, his grip tightening slightly on my shoulder.

"Will pay with their life."

A dark weight settles over the room. I look up at him, chewing my lip, searching for some kind of softness in his gaze, something to tell me that he has not entirely lost himself in his urge to protect me. I find no trace of it.

"And just to make certain that there’s no ounce of doubt left in any of your minds," he goes on, "I'm going to lay my claim to her. Here. Now. In front of all of you."

Shock rushes through me, and I look up at him, eyes wide, trying to make sense of what he’s saying right now. Because the way it sounds... the way it sounds, it's as if he intends to take me right here, right now, in front of all his men. But that can't be right. He might do things differently, live his life far removed from anything I have experienced before with Petar, but there's no way...

And yet, as his gaze settles on mine, it leaves no room for argument. Whatever he wants from me, he intends to take in any way he can. And I don’t know if there’s a damn thing I can do to stop him.

Or if I even want to.

"What does that mean?" I breathe as his hand moves to the back of my neck, massaging that spot in my nape that I can feel in every nerve ending in my body.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," he tells me, his voice low and commanding. "Where all of my men can see. Because they need to understand that I am not fooling around when I say that you are the most important thing in my life."

My heart thuds against my chest, and I cast my gaze back into the room, to the voyeurs who will drink in the sight of me taking their boss's cock right here on the table. I know I shouldn't be excited at the thought of it, but arousal courses through me. An insistent, wanting desire that I can’t ignore.

"On your feet," he tells me.