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Hearing laughter and conversation around him, tension burned through Dmitri. As he closed in on the table, Kyler took his position at the bar.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Then Dmitri was directly behind Steven, who was drinking a cola.
His muscles quivered with a desire to hurt this man, but Dmitri pushed it back. He knew better than to piss Steven off. Today was about coming to an agreement. He reminded himself to stay focused and confident, no lashing out.
When Dmitri moved to the seat across from Steven, unbuttoned his jacket, and sat down, the fucker slowly glanced up. Stunned brown eyes under thick eyebrows met Dmitri, and a flush crept across Steven’s thin face. Dmitri held his stare, knowing Steven would read nothing in his expression—a trick he’d perfected over the years that had served him well in high-stakes business negotiations.
Dmitri wanted to make Steven uncomfortable.
Scared, even.
He placed the envelope on the table next to the glass of water, and when Steven started to rise, Dmitri said sternly, “Sit down, or I’ll have you arrested for blackmail.” He tipped his chin toward Kyler, who stood at the bar, arms crossed over his chest.
Steven regarded Kyler a moment before he gingerly sat back down, his anger obvious. “What do you want?”
A thousand questions and demands rushed through Dmitri’s mind, but only one remained important. “What is your motive behind the pictures?”
Red-hot wrath burned across Steven’s face. “How did you—”
“The how is not important.” Dmitri leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Only the motive is. What’s your play?”
Steven’s jaw twitched, those brown eyes black with ire. “I’m sure you know exactly why.”
“For Presley?”
Steven straightened in his seat, studying Dmitri. “I’m protecting her.”
“By exposing her
to the tabloids?” Dmitri scoffed.
“By showing her parents exactly what she has turned into, and to get her back home to Apple Valley.” Steven’s nostrils flared. “She’s changed now. Different. I’ve seen her at your house wearing slutty clothes. That is not the Presley I know. I told her before, and I’ll say it again—I owe her this for the wrong I did to her. It’s for her own good.”
Dmitri knew that Steven thought Presley had fallen into a deep depression because he had cheated on her. In fact, Steven couldn’t have been more wrong. It just reminded Dmitri that Steven didn’t really know her. Not the real her. Not the special woman Dmitri knew.
He concentrated on keeping his face emotionless as Steven added, “I know that she only works part-time now, since her employer told me when I called to get an appointment with Presley. You’ve completely taken control of her life!” Flames of anger filled his eyes, and his lip curled. “My mother talks to her mother, and she has told me that Presley’s mother still thinks Presley is working full-time. She is too fucking scared—or ashamed—to even talk to her mother. Did you know that I’m still so connected to the family?”
“No, I did not.” That connection didn’t bother Dmitri. Presley’s mother was a sweet woman. He assumed that she would keep in touch with the family that had almost been her in-laws. He also suspected Presley didn’t tell her mother about the change in her job, because that was entirely like Presley—always worried about what others would think of her.
Besides, Dmitri heard the underlying point: Steven thought Presley was a complete mess and that Dmitri was the man who was bulldozing her.
That was so far from the truth it was almost laughable. Almost.
When Dmitri offered nothing more, Steven sneered. “What you’ve done with her is wrong, man. She was a good girl, had a good head on her shoulders, and a great job. You’ve belittled her and made her nothing but your sex slave.”
“In your eyes.” Dmitri countered, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Only in your eyes.”
“If you love her and aren’t using her for your perverted lifestyle, why haven’t you married her? From what I hear, you’re not even engaged.” The flush on Steven’s face deepened. “It’s because you don’t respect her enough to do it. Isn’t that right?”
A line was being crossed here, and Dmitri fought to keep a level head. He leaned in a bit closer and warned, “Be careful, Steven.”
“Do you forget that I was engaged to her?” Steven shot back, jarring the table with his leg and rattling the glasses on top. “I’ve known her longer. She’s a sweet girl who’s been corrupted by a powerful pervert.”
