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Any shadow of doubt in my mind that Mikhail is the head of the Zhivoder vanishes. This is the conflict Silvia said has been escalating between the rival Bratvas. And though I had my suspicions before, I’m confident that Mikhail is the Zhivoder’spakhan.
How could Ben have fallen so far in with such a terrible person? He might be reckless and impressionable, but my brother is not a bad person. At least, I never thought he could get sucked into something quite so evil as this.
But more than that, how could my father? Fury rips through me as my mind rejects the concept entirely. Blinded by ambition, my father might be, but corrupt? Never.
“Did my fatheraskfor this supposed favor?” I demand, jutting my chin. He might have disowned me in his pursuit of the governorship, but I know my dad. He would never condone violence. He stands by his convictions no matter what challenges he might face.
Mikhail chuckles, his expression indulgent. “No, but I’m inclined to get in your father’s good graces. I plan to build a solid relationship with him because Attorney General Richelieu has a lot to offer me, I think.”
His eyes dance as they rake down my body, and he pulls me closer. “Like you,” he murmurs, releasing one wrist to hook a finger under my chin.
My stomach turns at his implication. He thinks he can own me. By getting in my dad’s good graces, he believes he can take my choice away.
Fury rips through me, igniting my blood.
And before I can fully consider the repercussions, I slap him.
Then I wrench my arm free to run.
Mikhail’s on me in an instant, my slap doing nothing to deter him as his fingers close around my arm once again. With a forceful jerk, he hauls me back toward him, and I slam against his chest.
I cry out as he grips me with bruising force, his lips twisting into an ugly sneer as he pins me against his body. The cloying scent of cigar smoke mixes with the toxic fumes of vodka on his breath, and he releases an elated laugh.
“Let go of me!” I demand, shoving at his chest.
But he’s surprisingly strong as he locks my arms between us, holding me in an iron grip.
“I don’t think so,” he breathes, leaning in for a kiss.
Sobbing in my rage, I lean back as far as I can to put distance between us. I can feel his excitement pressing adamantly against my pelvis, and bile rises in my throat.
“Come on, Dani. Don’t fight it…” Then a gag-inducing sound of anticipation hisses through his teeth, as though his mouth is simply watering for me. “Or do. I have to admit, I like the way you squirm.”
This fucking creep is going to rape me.
The realization sends me into overdrive, and I scream, renewing my efforts to break from his grasp. I can’t believe the men outside the door can’t hear me. Then again. They probably can.How many girls has Mikhail violated like this before? How many girls has he forced himself on that the men outside don’t even check to see if I need them?
Mikhail stumbles with the force of my resistance, losing his footing momentarily. But it’s not enough to break free of him, and he manages to use it to his advantage. Shifting his grip, he forces one of my arms behind my back and grips my wrist, giving it a violent twist.
He subdues me in an instant as my muscles and tendons scream for relief, my arm bent in a compromised position. I’m sure if he cranks it any harder, he’ll break me.
Sobbing, I still against his chest, my cheek pressed against his sternum as he breathes heavily. He adjusts his grip, pinning me with one hand as he brings the other between us. My heart hammers as he works his fingers beneath the hem of my cropped sweater, his slimy hand roaming up my body as his erection presses adamantly against my navel.
“Stop,” I beg, and cry out when my slightest resistance sends sharp pain lancing through my shoulder.
Mikhail groans appreciatively as the tips of his fingers graze my bare breast. “No bra?” he teases, relishing my humiliation.
Then a commotion starts outside the door.
My heart flutters as Mikhail pauses, his attention turning to the raised voices as the altercation escalates.
“The fuck?” he growls, bristling at the disruption to his sick, sleazy mission.
And I don’t dare speak for fear that it will bring his attention back to the task at hand. I pray that whoever it is that’s so desperate for Mikhail’s attention doesn’t turn back now.
My mind races as I debate calling for help. Maybe, just maybe, the person will help me. I strain my ears to hear what’s happening as the gruff voices come to an abrupt halt, and my heart sinks as I fear I’ve missed my chance.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mikhail hisses, and when I look up, his dark, soulless eyes bore into mine with a deadly warning.
