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She laughs softly, and I lift my gaze to meet hers as she nods her head once. “I knew you’d forgotten, but you interviewed a virgin a few weeks ago. I’ve kept her comfortable, trained her as much as I can, and counseled her. She’s ready.”
“And willing?” I ask.
“Over eighteen and very willing. It’s Sveta’s little sister. She knows exactly what to expect.”
Nodding my head, I continue to look over the client list for the weekend and then turn to her. “But does the governor know exactly what is expected of him as well?” I ask.
Polina clears her throat. I hand her back the clipboard and focus on her gaze as I wait for her answer. She lets out a sigh. “I’ve sent him the documents. He’s signed them. I hope he’s read them.”
Unfortunately, her being worried about him not reading the documents is very valid. Most of the men who come here are so excited to be part of the club, they do not read anything they sign, then they violate the rules and it’s a whole big thing.
“Sounds good enough to me. I’ll be here the entire weekend. If there are any issues that arise, I expect to be informed immediately.”
“Of course, Ruslan.”
Polina presses her clipboard against her chest, turns and walks toward her position in the small hallway, hidden and tucked away from sight. There she has a spot that holds three iPads. All three devices have surveillance footage from the rooms in use. She can keep an eye on the girls and call out for help if she needs, without anyone being the wiser.
Leaving her to her duties, I slowly make my way toward my office, but something catches my eye down at the club level. There is a flash of dark hair, and it causes me to pause. I recognize that hair.
My gaze travels down the rest of her body and I suck in a breath at the sight of her. I can’t see her face, but I don’t need to. I know exactly who the fuck is standing in the middle of my gentleman’s club, with every fucking man in the place drooling over her.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
I don’t run downstairs to her, but I don’t take my time either. I briskly make my way toward her, just as a stranger approaches her. He reaches out to shake her hand, but she shifts her head from side to side and doesn’t accept the touch. Instead, she takes a step backward.
I’m not sure what’s being said, but I could give a fuck at the same time. Lifting my hands as I approach her back, I grip her biceps and squeeze firmly. She turns slightly, her completely made-up face looking back at me.
I knew it was her, and I was right.
“Excuse me, but I need to talk to my wife,” I state, shifting my attention from Isabel to the man across from her.
His eyes are wide, his lips parted, and he takes a step backward, then turns tail and practically runs away. I don’t blame him, I would probably turn and run too if I were him. I’m pretty fucking pissed off right about now.
Isabel slowly turns around and I try to hide my expression, but I doubt it works because she blinks and takes a step backward. She sucks in a breath, then presses her lips together and tries to give me big and innocent eyes. It would work if I wasn’t angry.
“Get the fuck in my office,” I grind out as I reach out for her bicep, gripping her tightly and tugging her roughly. She stumbles forward, slightly off balance, but I don’t stop. Turning, I walk toward my office. I Have to drag her upstairs, but to her credit she doesn’t fight me and doesn’t try to stop me.
Flinging her into my private office, I then slam the door behind me before I look across the room to her. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t move. She stands frozen in the middle of the space as she just looks at me, staring, waiting for me to say something, but I’m not the one who showed up here in the first place.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I tip my chin slightly and look down my nose at her. “You better fucking talk, or you’re going to be locked up, and Artur is fucking fired from his post, and you know the way he would be let go, too. Start talking.”
She tips her head backward, her eyes finding mine. She is full of defiance, she is concentrating, she has something that she wants to say. Pressing my lips in a straight line, I watch her, and I continue to fucking wait.
“I made him bring me here. Demanded it actually,” she begins.
“To what avail?” I ask.
She takes a step toward me, the mask of her defiance slipping slightly, but she puts it back in place quickly.
“I want the man that I love back. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you, since you’ve been home.”
She’s right. It’s been too long, but I cannot sleep beside her. I cannot chance hurting her again, so instead of physically hurting her, I decide to hurt her in a way where I cannot see the marks marring her body.
“You want a fuck? Is that why you’re here? Get on the desk, I’ll fuck you, Isa. I’ll fuck you good and then you can go home with a sated smile.”
I don’t realize what’s happening until it happens. She lifts her hand and slaps me across the face.
“Fuck you,” she seethes. “Fuck. You.”
