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I put my hands in my pockets and gaze at her with a smile on my lips. Tonight is going to be wonderful.
Drawing the tassel on her bag through her fingers, she says, “My future husband will have almost as much power in this city as me after Dad’s gone. Have you thought about that?”
“It’s crossed my mind,” I admit, watching her with narrowed eyes and wondering what she’s getting at.
She lifts her gaze, and there’s a challenging expression in her eyes. “Dad’s wishes mean everything to me, and I hope you realize that my ambitions burn as bright and as hard as yours, Uncle Kristian. Right now, I don’t trust any man who says he wants to marry me.”
I offer her my arm. “My only ambition is to see you in your rightful place, princess. If there’s anything I can do to help my favorite niece, all you have to do is ask.”
Zenya regards me for a moment and then slips her arm through mine. “Good. So long as we’re clear.”
A car is waiting for us outside, and we get into the back seat together. The back of my neck is prickling. My niece as my wife, revenge against my brother, and ruling this family. Those are my three secret ambitions, but it seems like Zenya’s starting to figure that out for herself.
Zenya leaves her hand lying on the car seat, and I reach for her at the same time she pulls away and holds tight to her clutch. She pretends she didn’t see me reaching for her hand, but I know she did.
I grit my teeth. Pursuing this woman is harder than committing murder in cold blood. Actually, murder is a walk in the park compared to claiming a single kiss from the only woman I’ve ever wanted. If Zenya won’t marry me, then I’ll lose my chance at all the power in this city and never get revenge on my brother.
But it’s not the thought of losing those that makes a black hole open up in my chest. I gaze at Zenya’s beautiful profile with the skyscrapers and city lights gliding past behind her. Two years I was banished, and what did I miss the most? Not this city or pissing off my brother, that’s for sure.
When we arrive at Yuri Golubev’s mansion, I walk around to Zenya’s side of the car and hold out my hand to her. She puts her slender fingers in mine and I help her out. A proud smile touches my lips as I drink in the sight of her, head held high, glorious silver-blonde hair cascading down her back, the short cocktail dress showing off her heavenly long legs.
Everyone turns to stare at us as I lead her through the front door and into the house.
Or rather, stare at her.
Kristian Belyaev has returned unexpectedly, but most of the hundred party guests are intrigued by Troian Belyaev’s beautiful daughter on my arm. I make eye contact with as many men as possible, silently warning them that this girl is under my protection and they shouldn’t get any ideas.
Zenya steps forward first to greet Yuri Golubev. “Happy birthday, Yuri. Thank you for inviting us into your home. My father sends his regards and wishes that he could be here tonight as well.”
I take second place, as is right for a man who is no longer Troian’s heir. If I don’t marry Zenya, I’ll always be in second place. And if I persuade her to marry me and then push her aside?
I’ll break her heart.
Or she’ll kill me.
I hope you realize that my ambitions burn as bright and as hard as yours, Uncle Kristian.
“You remember my uncle, of course,” Zenya says, glancing at me as she smiles at our host.
“Hello, Yuri,” I say, and he inclines his head in greeting.
Golubev holds Zenya’s hand in his, smiling at her with a calculating gleam in his gray eyes. He reaches out and draws a man to his side, one who resembles a younger version of himself.
“Do you remember my son, Zenya?”
Instantly, my eyes narrow.
Zenya withdraws her hand from the father and presents it to the son with a polite smile. “Of course. Hello Jozef, it’s nice to see you again. Do you know my uncle, Kristian Belyaev?”
I greet Jozef without a smile and clench his offered hand until he winces. He pays me a fraction of a second’s attention before turning back to Zenya with a smile and telling her how beautiful she looks.
I think I’ve just met the second of God knows how many men who are dying to marry my niece. Watching Jozef Golubev fawn all over her, smile at her, and touch her arm has me itching to cave his face in with my fist. How dare he entertain thoughts of making Zenya his. How dare he even fuckinglookat her. I fantasize about ripping his eyes from their sockets and hurling them to the ground.
Golubev’s expression grows serious as he gazes at Zenya, but his sincerity is lacking. “I was filled with sorrow to hear that you were injured, my dear. What a terrible thing when even the finest family in the city is subject to such disrespect.”
Jozef’s face fills with concern as he gazes at Zenya, and he rests his hand on her shoulder.
Hishandis on herbare fucking shoulder.
