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“How many?”
“I’ve lost count.” As she gazes up at me, a smile hooks the corners of her mouth.
I slide my hand around the nape of her neck and pull her closer, murmuring, “Princess, are you trying to make me jealous?”
She gazes up at me from beneath her lashes, a flirty, daring look. It’s Belyaev nature to rise to any challenge. “From the look in your eyes, I don’t have to try to make you jealous.”
“That’s right. Every time I think about a man touching you the way I touch you…” I growl, dropping my face even closer to hers and breathing in her sweet scent. “I nearly go out of my mind with jealousy. One of these days, I’m going to kiss you out in the open and make sure everyone in this city knows you’re mine.”
I drink in the hazy, needy expression in her eyes.
See how different it feels when it’s me holding you, princess?
On that day, she’ll be wearing my ring and my baby will be in her belly, and the church bells will ring out for everyone to hear for miles around.
She takes hold of my wrist and drags my hand away from the nape of her neck. “I should have been the one to make Grigor whimper and beg for mercy. I’m the next in line to lead this family, not you.”
“Fuck yes you are,” I breathe. “But it’s my pleasure to do that kind of thing for you. Don’t take it away from me.”
“I don’t belong to any man, Uncle. I’m Zenya Belyaev, and everyone in this city is going to kneel to me.”
She gives me a push, and I fall onto a sofa and stare up at her in surprise, my hair falling into my eyes.
Zenya smiles at me and folds her arms. “Starting with you.”
That’s not part of my plan, for me to kneel to her. It’s supposed to be the other way around. Zenya Belyaev was supposed to fall in love with me and sweetly hand over all her power to her darling uncle.
But she’s changed in the years since I’ve been gone. She gazes down her cute nose at me with pride burning in her eyes.
“You want me on my knees for you?” I ask slowly, feeling the blood rush to my dick.
“Do you dare, Uncle, in front of all these men?”
Together we glance left and right and see that the whole room is staring at us again.
I, Kristian Belyaev, have never knelt before anyone in my life. Not even my own brother. Troian has always had my total devotion, but I would have told him to fuck off if he asked me to kneel.
But as I gaze up at my niece, I realize it’s all I want to do. Every man in this city should drop to his knees the moment she enters a room.
And they will.
Zenya’s going to make them all worship her, and I can’t wait to watch her do it.
I slide to my knees before Zenya and her eyes flare with surprise. I reach out to take her hand and brush my lips over the inside of her palm as I gaze into her eyes.
“Anything for you, princess.”
8
Kristian
It’s a special kind of crazy to want to plunge your tongue into your niece’s mouth right in front of your brother, but as Zenya takes charge of the meeting, it’s all I can think about.
All eyes are on her, and she looks drop-dead stunning with her blonde hair like spun moonlight tumbling around her shoulders and a black minidress clinging to her body. There’s a black velvet ribbon choker around her throat, and every so often she touches it with her dark red tapered nails. I’m obsessed with every tiny detail about her. Her lashes. The strands of silky hair by her ear. That choker, which should be my fucking hand as I kiss her roughly.
I shove my hands deeper into my pants pockets and clear my throat to distract myself. I’ve been semi-hard tending to rock hard ever since she told me to kneel for her. The power of this girl over my heart and body is insane.
Troian’s here, of course, and so is Mikhail. We’re having this meeting in Troian’s bedroom because he was too exhausted from chemotherapy to make it down to the Silo.
