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The connection between us is electrifying, and knowing she feels the same way…shit. I’d rather she hated me because it sucks knowing you can’t ever get the one thing you want most.
I drift off to sleep again at some point when my brain finally gives in to the stress and anger that’s been weighing on it. When I wake up hours later, refreshed is the last thing I feel.
All of my limbs ache from the intense workout I gave my body the night before while I was trying to force all thoughts of Natasha from my mind. I holed up in my gym, figuring I could exhaust myself to the point where my mind would just shut down. It didn’t work.
My temples throb like I downed a case of Smirnoff vodka. I didn’t, although the idea was damn tempting.
A pinging sound jolts me from my self-torment, and I grab my cell phone, happy for any distraction from Natasha and what she does to my head.
Bothof them.
“Sonofabitch.” Dima’s name flashes across the screen and I grit my teeth. Any distraction but him.
It’s too early to deal with him, but I know he’ll just keep calling if I send him to voicemail. Dima is the kind of pain in the ass who insists on talking to someone instead of sending a text.
Seven-thirty in the morning.
Christ, what the hell can be so important at this ungodly hour?
With a roll of my eyes, I stab the Accept Call button and put the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”
“Sounds like I woke you.”
“Long night.”
“I’m sure Natasha had nothing to do with that.” His voice bristles and I allow myself a small smile.
That tells me he’s not sure at all.
“What’s the matter? You don’t trust me?”
“Not in the least,” he snaps. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“If you didn’t trust me, then why’d you force me to babysit your bride-to-be?”
“I needed to keep her protected until we make the announcement.”
“Bullshit. You have an army of guys at your beck and call. She’d have been better off at your place. Why here?”
“Because it’s your fucking job, okay? You take orders from me. That’s how this whole boss thing works. I’m in charge, dammit. That means you don’t get to question my decisions. You’ve defied me more than enough lately, and if you don’t cut it the fuck out, just know there are other ways to keep you in line.” He pauses. “I’m taking her today.”
An icy chill slips down my spine when the realization finally smacks me across the face. It takes a few seconds to sink in because I’m sleep-deprived, but when it does, the impact of his words slices into me like a dagger.
That rat bastard.
Dima sent those guys over here yesterday. They weren’t some nameless enemies who wanted to fuck over Dima. They work for the sonofabitch. I’d stake my life on it. Dima knew Ilya was on his way over here with the dresses. I mean, he sent them over for Natasha to try on, for fuck’s sake. And he knew I’d be here with her.
I’ve always been a thorn in Dima’s side, so what better way to eliminate me than to hire a few guys posing as a couple of scorned thugs to break into my place and do his work?
He only wants Natasha back now because his mission to kill me crashed and burned.
Dima, you fucking asshat.
Maybe he figured sending in a couple of guys would be enough to overpower me.
I grab the jar of coconut oil and hurl it at the wall, the top flying off because I didn’t screw it back on after using it. Chunks of the oil splatter onto the tile floor.
Just one more mess for me to clean up.
