Page 5

“What?” I sputter. “I did no such thing. I was falling, and you chose to save me. That is entirely on you.”

“So, there is fire left in you,” the stranger who both terrifies and excites me murmurs almost to himself.

Crossing my arms under my chest, I level a glare at him, done with whatever this back and forth is right now. “Unless there is a purpose to this entire exchange, I’m leaving.”

All humor falls from his face, and he takes a step toward me, stepping into my personal space but not touching me. “Where are you going? Because from where I’m standing, wherever you came from has left you with nothing but hurt, shame, and a need for vengeance.”

“You know nothing about me or what I’ve been through.” I straighten my shoulders, spinning away from the man and making it about half across the clearing before stopping to look back at him. “Thank you for pushing me on the swing. I hope I never see you again.”

The same sinister chuckle from earlier skates across my skin. “You will see me again, moya golovolomka.”

Rushing out of the clearing, I work to push the interaction out of my mind because right now I have one goal, and that is to live long enough to watch my father, first, lose everything that he has built and means anything to him. The second is to make sure that he goes down with the sinking ship. Breaking into the clearing just outside the garden, I am not at all shocked to see that the theme for the party has shifted. Gone are the highbrow, well-polished partygoers, and in their place are the scum of men, and even women, doing drugs, drinking all while half-naked or fully naked. Some of the women are young—too young—with men serving them in any and every way you can imagine.

Revulsion swamps over me so ferociously that it nearly brings me to my knees. As my knees give out, a warm body wraps around me, keeping me from landing on my ass. Fire ignites deep within in places I swore they would never burn again as the man currently holding me up off the ground speaks low in my ear.

“Once again throwing yourself at me, moya golovolomka?” he questions, laced in boredom.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re following me,” I growl, refusing to look at the man.

“You don’t want me stalking you, moya golovolomka. Those who find themselves in my crosshairs usually end up dead.” His tone is so emotionless and matter of fact that fear settles in my body.

I look back at the man currently holding me in his arms and our eyes connect, confirming that there are no emotions inside him, only hard facts to what he just said. The sound of high-pitched laughter rings out, causing his eyes to snap in the direction of the party, like a predator stalking its next kill. His grip around my waist tightens as he pulls me closer to him, almost as if to shield me from the surrounding chaos. Staring up at the man, all hard lines, short hair, and hazel eyes so sharp I know he doesn’t miss anything ever, I’m mesmerized.

When he finally brings his eyes back to my face, raising a single eyebrow, asking a silent question that I just can’t read. We stand there not saying a word as the world once again falls away and between one blink and the next the world goes dark.

Three

Nikolay

I look down at the woman who is now completely passed out in my arms, and the need and desire to protect and guard her overwhelm me. Bending down, I sweep her up into my arms, not stopping to think about what I’m about to do. The only thing that matters to me is getting her away from the debauchery that has become this supposed Halloween gala. Disgust slams into me because this entire evening was nothing more than a show of money and perceived power. With the sole goal being to build alliances with families and entities that would otherwise never look in this man’s direction.

I watch a young woman, who I cannot guarantee not only her age but also the fact she is truly willing to be here, slide onto the lap of a powerful man, giggling. The woman in my arms whimpers and shifts closer to my body, causing me to pull her closer as if trying to shield her from the world. I will, even if it's as a ghost hidden in the shadows. Approaching footsteps have me shifting back into the shadows of the hedges, out of sight of whomever is rushing toward me. Three men come through the break in the hedges, not looking pleased in the slightest.

Their conversation catches my attention.

“Boss is going to kill us.”

“How the fuck did you lose her?”

“She slipped past everyone. So don’t fucking start your shit.”

Denver’s men walk past me, not once recognizing that they are mere inches from the person they should fear. I don’t dare move from my spot until I can no longer hear their voices. Not letting my guard down, I swiftly and silently move through the shadows, making my way to my car. It’s time to go, or I am going to start trouble that will cause our Pakhan to lose his shit because I’m in no mood to deal with the tantrum.

It takes no time at all for me to make my way to my SUV. Not for the first time, I’m thankful that I do not have to pull my key out to unlock the door. I am able to unlock the car doors. Shifting the woman in my arms so that I can reach out to pull the front passenger door open, I set her unconscious form down in the seat. The midnight blue dress that wraps around her as if it were made to fit her causes my heart to race and cock to go hard. I give myself a minute to take in the stunning woman in front of me. She has her hair stacked and twisted into a styled updo. Her lashes lay softly against her cheeks. Her makeup is flawless, though not quite hiding the dark half-moons under her eyes telling the story that she’s trying to hide. Loud voices reach me, bringing me back to the fact that I’m currently standing in the front yard of a not-so-great man with his daughter in my car.

Gathering the fabric of her dress that is hanging out of the car, I stuff it into the SUV, my annoyance growing with how much fabric there is. Growling in frustration, I reach behind my back, under my suit jacket and pull the dagger that always rests against my spine free. Then I grab a handful of the dress and start cutting pieces of it away.

“Why is there so much of this shit?” I grumble to myself as I continue cutting away the layers and layers of fabric.

When I can finally get the dress into the car, I step back and close the door, leaving all the extra fabric on the ground. Turning, I scan the area for any kind of threat. Pulling the driver's door open, I slide into my seat, looking over at the sleeping form of the most perplexing and beautiful woman I’ve ever come across. Knowing that I’m no good for her means nothing because she is mine and always will be. Just as I start my SUV, my phone rings over my speakers.

I glare at the blasted thing and ignore the call as I pull through the large gate onto the road. The annoying ringing starts right back up, and this time Machislav’s name is on the screen. When I press the button on the steering wheel, the call connects, and I remain silent as I drive.

“Tell me you didn’t,” are Machislav’s first words.

Deciding to see how far I can push him, I answer, “I didn’t.”

“Nikolay, do you know what you’ve done?” Machislav snarls.