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I bristle further, glancing across the room to Mama. Gorgeous, vivacious, and...
“She’s a size six, Nik.”
He shrugs. “I like my women—” he cuts himself off. “Mywifewill be slender. Not a cow like the Pontrelli matron.”
He just called mymothera cow. Thankfully we’re alone at this table for two, so no one overheard him—this time. I cringe.
“If my father ever heard you say that—” I start.
“He didn’t. And you won’t tell him.” Nik leans in. “You’re to bemywife, Sophia.Mine. Your loyalty is to me first and your family second. Do not forget that.” Someone catches his attention over my shoulder, and he calls out something in Russian.
As Nik stands up and walks away from our table, my skin prickles with the sensation of being watched. I turn around, but can’t pinpoint the source. A hundred people are in this room and yet I know thatheis looking at me again. So he hasn’t left after all.
My stomach does a strange kind of flip-flop that leaves me feeling nauseated. I swallow hard and twist around in my chair. My skin morphs from chilled goosebumps to blushing heat. One more glance around and my heartbeat stutters.
There, from the shadows of a corner, I swear I see the outline of none other than Roman De Luca, staring right at me, his gaze all consuming.
I quickly look away.
Why is Roman watching me? We’ve never spoken so much as a single word to one another.
Just like the Black Baron, Roman De Luca is not a man I want attention from. I may find him mysterious and intriguing—in the same way a person is drawn to a caged tiger at the zoo. Something pretty and dangerous to look at, but no one wants to be trapped in the cagewiththe predator.
Make no mistake, Roman De Luca is the deadliest of predators in my world.
CHAPTER2
Roman
The smooth amber liquid barely burns as it glides down my throat. I eye Davide Pontrelli, head of the Pontrelli family and a long-time business associate of mine, over the rim of my scotch glass. The din of the party is muted by the thick walls of Pontrelli’s office.
He sits across from me, behind his executive desk, his face impassive enough to hide his thoughts. Except I can tell by the tick of his left eye that he’s about to pull a gun on me.
Pontrelli’s hand disappears beneath his desk as he says, “You know full well I can’t give you what you ask. Breaking off the engagement with Nikolai Kozlov would devastate my family’s standing. Our word would be worth nothing. No one would trust us ever again.”
“I see.” I ease back into the soft leather chair, cradling the glass between my palms. “If you don’t willingly give me your daughter Sophia, I will have no choice but to seduce her and ruin her virtue before her wedding. I believe that would break the contract you have with Kozlov.” I sneer at having to say his name aloud.
Pontrelli’s face darkens. “You wouldn’t dare defile my daughter.”
I don’t bother to suppress the vicious grin that tugs at my lips. For a chance at revenge, I’d defile every precious virgin daughter in all of New York City. But I don’t have to because there’s only one girl that leads to Nikolai Kozlov’s ruin, and her name is Sophia Pontrelli.
When Pontrelli told me about his daughter’s upcoming nuptials I paid little attention, until I realized her fiancé is none other than Kozlov, the one man I’d sell my soul to the Devil for, if it guaranteed Kozlov’s ultimate suffering. Luckily, I don’t have to go that far. It seems my chance for revenge has fallen right into my lap.
Pontrelli studies me, his right hand remains out of sight. “I know this isn’t about Sophia, you’ve never spoken to her, much less looked her way. So, I’m assuming this has something to do with Nikolai Kozlov. Is there bad blood between you two?”
Bad blooddoesn’t begin to cover it. It barely scratches the surface. For what Kozlov did to me, I will see him suffer for years, destroy everything, every hope and dream he’s ever had, then watch as he dies a broken, bitter man.
I want everyone he trusts to turn against him. For everything he holds dear to shatter and be swept away. For his own family to shun his very name.
“Something like that,” I admit to the man in front of me. “My business with Kozlov is of no concern to you.”
Pontrelli purses his lips, obviously disagreeing with me. “No, but this does concern my daughter. My daughter is my business.”
“Fine.” I drain my glass and set it on the side table. “You can have her back once I’m done with her. If I’m gentle, she might be in good enough shape to sell to someone else.”
“How dare you?” Pontrelli abruptly stands, the revolver in his hand pointed at my chest. “You will not so blatantly disrespect my family. I saidno. This conversation is over. Get out. Now.” He cocks the gun.
I wave him off. “Don’t be a fool. Believe me, you don’t want to face the consequences of killing me.”
