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I glance at Zenya and she’s wearing a disgusted expression, so different to the desire I saw on her face when she was in my arms.
“Grigor’s new,” Zenya explains. “He’s only been working in the city about a year. His father is Gedeon Kalchik.”
I don’t care if his father is the King of Olympus. “Get your hands off her,” I say through my teeth.
“Your new bodyguard thinks he’s hot shit, baby.” The man smirks at me, dragging his gaze up my body with an insolent look in his eyes. “Run along, idiot. I’m Zenya’s fiancé.”
I turn to her and raise an eyebrow. Last night she claimed she was engaged, but I thought it was something she said to throw off the strange man who was making her feel things she’d never felt before. Her shoulders are hunched against this man’s touch and her eyes keep cutting away from him. Whoever he is, she’s not pleased to see him.
I’m vaguely aware that everyone in the room has stopped talking and is staring at the three of us. No one comes to Grigor’s aid. They all know who I am, and they like their blood inside their veins.
I give him a threatening smile. “Get your hands off my niece.”
The young man opens his eyes wide and rakes me up and down. “Kristian Belyaev? I thought you were dead or whatever.”
“It’s whatever.”
“Grigor?” Zenya says, looking at me with worried eyes, guessing correctly that I’m about to cause bloodshed.
“Yes, baby?”
“Get your hands off me.”
With a sulky expression, Grigor drags his arm from around her shoulders and steps back.
“Grigor is not my fiancé,” she explains to me, settling her clothing back into place.
“Only because of a technicality,” he butts in, and shoots Zenya a conspiratorial smile. “Zenya just hasn’t said yes.”
I form my hands into fists. Zenya puts a placating hand on my arm like she’s telling me not to worry about it.
“I’ll call you. You owe me a second date.” Grigor saunters away with a confident swagger, as if it’s only a matter of time before he makes her his.
Zenya has her arms wrapped around her body and her expression is downcast. I know that look. My sweet little dandelion looked that way on the worst days of her life. When her mom died. When Chessa’s kids were crying for their dead mom. The day I left her. I never wanted to see her look like that ever again.
“Let me guess. That asshole’s been harassing you for weeks. Months. You keep saying no but because there’s no man around to tell him to fuck off, he’s been trying to wear you down.”
She presses her lips together and nods.
I wrap an arm around her waist and kiss her forehead. “Your uncle’s got this for you, princess.”
As I turn toward Grigor, Zenya says quickly, “No, Uncle Kristian, don’t—”
“Hey. You.” I hear Zenya’s exasperated sigh behind me as I follow Grigor. Does she really think I’m going to stand for a complete nobody making her feel like she’s prey? “What did you just say to her?”
Grigor turns back to me with a frown on his face. “Huh?”
Another ripple of anger passes through me. “It’s notHuh?It’sYes, sir.You need to learn some manners. I asked what you said to my niece.”
He glances between Zenya and me with a confused expression. “I said goodbye. Why are you getting up my ass?”
“She owes you another date?”
A stupid grin spreads over his face. “I took her to dinner and she promised me another date, but she hasn’t been answering my—”
“Zenya Belyaev owes you something?”
“Well, yeah, she said—”
