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“Who the fuck is this?” I ask.
“I was hoping you’d know. He’s been pacing around the house searching for a way in. Don’t you have cameras here? Christ, Mikhail, you have Sloane—people are bound to be looking for her, and you need to keep her safe.”
I forget everything I was doing and step toward the man. His hands are in front of him, his head angled down.
No one knows Sloane is here besides Adrian, Lev, Dimitri, and Max.
My eyes search Max’s and we both give questioning glares in return. He doesn’t know who this man is or how he found us.
“Who sent you?” I finally ask.
The man doesn’t look up or even mutter a single word. I step on his fingers until I hear some kind of sound to show me he’s alive. He thinks he can just creep around my house and take what’s mine? He should swallow a bullet for the simple attempt. It doesn’t take much for me to realize he’s here for Sloane.
He seethes from the pain I’m inflicting on him, but that doesn’t tell me what I want to know. His head falls between his scrawny shoulders and he continues to make useless sounds.
“Great,” I tell him. I reach for my phone and order Lev to bring Sloane downstairs. “Max, why don’t we share a drink? You can bring him.”
We walk to the formal dining room and sit next to one another while we wait for Sloane. I can hear her struggling with the hold Lev has on her. She’s shouting at him. I didn’t want to wake her up, but I need to know if she knows this man. Lev isn’t making this any easier. I don’t like how he’s grabbing her.
He pushes her into the room, and she stumbles forward. Once she lays eyes on the man Max caught, her eyes widen.
She knows him.
“Sloane, kind of you to join us. Why don’t you take a seat?”
Her lips pout. It’s as if she knows what’s about to happen and she can’t do a damn thing to stop it. Hesitantly, she pulls out the chair on the opposite side of the table and takes a seat. “This is unnecessary,” she says in a steady voice.
“It’s unfortunate we don’t share the same opinion.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong.”
I sit back in my chair and admire her. I haven’t even told her a damn thing about what’s going on—she’s saying it all for me. She can be sexy when she tries to take control, but I need answers.
“I’d say trespassing on private property is wrong. I would know,” Max says with a laugh.
I laugh with him because I understand his meaning. He used to get caught trespassing with a girl all the time. I’ve only heard stories, but it happened when he was younger.
“Sloane, are you all right?” the man asks, refusing to look at anyone but her.
The look on her face is hard to decipher. I can’t tell if she feels sad or worried. Hell, she should be both.
“She’s fine,” I tell him, answering for her.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“Anything that involves her involves me. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re here to take her from me, aren’t you?”
“She’s not yours to have.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She is mine.” I reach into my waistband and pull out my gun.
“Mikhail, please!” Sloane shouts, and a worried expression takes over her confusion.
I glare at her. If she didn’t want any of this to happen, she shouldn’t have gone against me. I set simple rules for her to follow, and she is the one who chose to defy me.
“Please don’t kill him,” she asks with a sweet voice. There’s something about her tone that makes me want to listen to her, but I ignore it. Nothing pisses me off more than unwanted people coming to my house.
I laugh under my breath. “Oh, I’m not killing anyone,” I say, reloading the gun and sliding it across the table. “You are.”
