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“Protect, my ass. It was all bloodlust, Luka. Nothing more. You say I feed my ego, but you do the same damn thing, just in a more brutal and barbaric way.” He smooths down his lapels once I let him go.
The picture of perfection. A dapper shell that exists to conceal a lot of ugly shit.
A ripple of ire makes my muscles tense. The image of that guy on top of Natasha flashes through my mind like a bolt of lightning.
“You sent them to kill me and to snatch Natasha.” My voice shakes with rage. “They fucked up on both counts. Do you even give a damn who you hire to carry out your sick orders? Because when I escaped their pathetic attempt on my life, I found one of them on top of your bride-to-be with his cock hanging out. If I hadn’t come in and smashed his skull with a baseball bat…”
The words catch in my throat because even though I did stop it and I did smash his skull with the bat, the images of her struggling against him, of her panicked expression and fear-filled eyes, are branded into my memory forever. She screamed for me three times and I saved her with seconds to spare.
A sinister grin lifts Dima’s lips. “Getting a little emotional, aren’t you, brother? So desperate to save the innocent virgin? Was it just to preserve her, or was it something more?”
He takes a few steps toward me. “I know exactly what you’ve been doing for the past two months. You followed her and I followed you. What I’d love to know is why you were on her tail, since you didn’t get the order to go after her until a couple of weeks ago. But ever since you got out of prison, you were on her like flies on shit.”
A rush of heat roars through me. Flames shoot straight into my fists. I keep them clenched as if the control will keep me focused and grounded. It doesn’t.
Blind fury consumes my body, and I launch a punch straight into his solar plexus. Seeing him fly backward into the wall from the force and shock of the hit gives me some satisfaction. I’d have rather crushed his jaw, but I wouldn’t do that to Val on her wedding day and fuck up the pictures.
There’s always tomorrow.
Then, the sobering thought settles into my mind.
No. There won’t be. Not for me.
Dima hunches over and clutches his midsection, coughing and gasping for air. His white shirt hangs out of the front of his pants, but at least I spared him the blood splatters by pounding him in the chest instead of going for the face. I smirk. Looks like he’s bowing to me right now. I could get used to seeing him like this.
“You don’t get to ask me questions.” I lower my head so he doesn’t miss a single word I say.
“Why?” he asks. “Because you’re too much of a pussy to admit why you were on her ass?” Dima winces as he slowly straightens up. “Tell me you don’t want her, that you didn’t fantasize about her for all the time you stalked her, that you didn’t want to fuck her even after her father fucked you.”
He lets out a wheeze followed by a dry cough. “You deserved to be tortured after what you did to us, opening us up to a goddamn war with Resnov. That’s why I made her stay with you. I wanted that craving to eat you alive. I wanted you to see what it was like to be the loser, to see what you would miss out on because you don’t know how to listen ever!”
“And torturing me wasn’t enough, so you figured hiring a shitty set of assassins to ice me was the answer?” I shake my head and kick a stone next to my foot. “You’re more fucked up than I thought. And if you want to know why I followed her for so long before you came to me with your brilliant plan, it was because I was going to kill her. I was going to get my own revenge on her father, on my terms, not yours.”
“What the hell kind of assassin stakes out a target for two months? Someone who can’t pull the goddamn trigger.”
“You know, for a guy who wants the world to see him as being in constant control of everything, you’re kind of losing your shit right now.” I shrug. “Not a good look for a number two.”
“You don’t even rate in the pecking order,” Dima sneers.
I take a deep breath. After tomorrow, it won’t matter.
My brother and I stand toe to toe, our fierce glares tangling like crackling lightsabers.
“There’s only one reason why you’re still standing here, Luka. It’s because I didn’t kill you all of those times when my finger ached to pull the trigger.”
“Who are you kidding?” I shove him hard enough that his Christian Louboutin loafer slips on the terracotta floor tile. He stumbles into the chair next to him with a loud grunt. “I’m here because as hard as you try, you could never fucking beat me. And the only reason why you’re still alive is because I haven’t pulled the trigger.”
I grab a fistful of his hair while he’s slumped over in the chair and yank his head toward mine. “And I, unlike you, never miss. Remember that.”
I look up, past my brother’s ear, and see Natasha standing in front of the window that overlooks the veranda. Her blue eyes are wide, her expression stricken.
Fuck, how much did she overhear?
I straighten up and adjust my jacket. It doesn’t matter what she heard. Nothing matters except my freedom. And staying in Miami for a second longer than I have to means I lose more and more of myself.
I turn my back on both of them and walk around to the front of the house. My gut wrenches at the memory of her anguished gaze staring back at me.
“Luka!”
