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I ignore him, eager to fan the flames raging between us. “You don’t like to get your hands dirty. Is that why you let your brother break into my house? You wanted them all to believe it was you claiming your ‘prize,’ but all along you were just the pussy in the background. You want the glory but don’t want to put in any of the work.” I fold my arms, a snide smile lifting my lips. “How’s that? Am I hot or what?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the gritty, raw brute flashing his brother a smirk before taking another long gulp of vodka. So devious and so damn sexy. I clench my teeth, lust swirling in my belly despite the ire flooding my veins at my situation.
“Looks like she’s got you pegged, bro.” Then he has the nerve to wink at me. Bastard.
Dima’s blue eyes flash with fury. His lips twist into a grimace as he storms toward me. He grabs my arm and pulls me against his chest. “We’ve shown you everything you stand to lose if you choose to shoot off that smart mouth again. And if those threats don't convince you, I will stuff my cock so far down your throat, you’ll choke on it. Understand?”
I yank my arm free from his grip. “If you even try to do that, I swear to God, I will bite it off!” A loud guffaw makes my spine stiffen like an iron rod. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” I shout at the vodka-soaked brother.
“Fuck off, Luka,” Dima mutters before backing me against a wall. “You will learn your place and you’ll do it quickly. Because I promise you that at the wedding, everyone in the world will see you on my arm wearing my fucking ring.”
“Are you smoking crack? There will be no ring. No marriage. Nothing!”
“It’s like watching a parent discipline a pain-in-the-ass kid,” Luka mutters. He guzzles the remainder of the vodka in the bottle and slams it on the gray and black granite countertop.
“Why don’t you fuck the bottle to make sure you get every last drop out of it?”
Luka flashes a knowing grin at me. “No way my cock fits into that head.” He nods at his brother. “Maybe Dima should give it a shot. It’d probably be a good fit for him.”
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Dima seethes, ignoring Luka’s comment. “You don’t have a choice, Natasha. This wedding is happening, like it or not.”
Tears sting my eyes and I hate that I am giving these jackasses the satisfaction of seeing any shred of vulnerability. I may talk a big game, but it’s all smoke and mirrors. I have no clue what I did to deserve this fate, and no idea what my father did to inspire such hatred from these men and their family.
I left my house with Luka out of sheer panic for my family’s safety.
But is anyone worried about mine?
Last I checked, nobody followed us here. Nobody tried to intercede, other than Vigo.
My father has his own army but yet, he let me go. Without so much as a tear being shed.
That knowledge stings worse than a hive full of wasps.
Dad watched me, his oldest daughter, get carried out of his house by a barbaric animal like a sack of potatoes.
“You will marry me, or I will kill your mother and sisters.” Dima’s lips curl upward in a sinister grin. “But not your father. I want you both to watch as I have the flesh peeled from their bones.”
“You are a complete psychopath.”
“Maybe so. But I want revenge. And you’re going to help me get it.”
“So you want to marry me just to get back at my father? What the hell kind of life is that for either of us? I’ll always hate you for ripping my life away.”
“And I’ll parade you around as a reminder to anyone else who considers fucking with the Malikov name. I don’t need to love you.” He tilts my chin upward with his index finger. “But I will fuck you. Hard…and often.”
My eyes unconsciously flicker in Luka’s direction when Dima mentions sex, even though I detest him for everything he’s put me through tonight — kidnapping me, assaulting me, violating me. Offense after offense. But if I said the memory of his palm striking my ass didn’t make me hot and wet, I’d have a five-foot-long nose. And my wayward gaze isn’t lost on Dima, either.
His nostrils flare when he whips around toward his brother. “This is all because of you,” Dima grunts. “So now you’re going to watch her until the wedding.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“She’s going to stay here until the wedding. I don’t need to deal with her bitching and moaning for the next few days. I have important business to handle, and let’s face it,” Dima scoffs. “You’ve got nothing else going on besides checking in with your parole officer.”
“I’m not your goddamn babysitter.” Luka tightens his grip around the empty bottle. He launches his arm backward and hurls it at Dima’s head. I relish the sight of him doubling over as a way to protect his precious temple.
The thick glass bottle shatters against the wall behind Dima. Shards litter the floor and glitter in the soft overhead light. He sidesteps them and stomps toward Luka. “You’re a lunatic. And you’ve caused our family a lot of problems, ones I’ve had to clean up. So now, you’ll do whatever I say. That includes watching my bride-to-be. You’re gonna keep her in line until I decide to take her off your hands.”
Dima’s gaze darkens when it hits me. “And if the future Mrs. Malikov doesn’t watch herself, someone is going to suffer a very horrible, very deadly accident.”
My pulse slams against my neck, and the jagged edge of the broken bottle catches my eye. I could grab it and impale him with it. I could slash his perfectly chiseled jawline with the sharp edges. Or I could take a risk and try to escape. Dying would be worth it if I could have the last say in my destiny.
“Three days, Natasha.” Dima smiles in an evil, menacing, and demonic sort of way that sends an icy shiver slithering down my spine. “For better or fucking worse.”
