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He’s too chickenshit about Master to try.
I let Master’s voice drone on and on without paying any attention. I’ve learned during my time here that it’s better to just let him have what he wants, do what he wants, and zone out whenever the opportunity strikes.
In this case, zoning out also helps ignore the fact that Demyen,myDemyen, is sitting right here with me, only a few feet away.
And he’s doing nothing. Saying nothing.
Just glaring.
Maybe, if I drift away enough, I can go back to Fiji. Just float in memories of warm, sunny beaches and cerulean blue waves… Willow’s laughter as we made sandcastles… the blanket of stars overhead unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my entire life…
And Demyen. There with me. Surrounding me with affection. Wrapping me up in his love, even when he couldn’t put the name to it. Whispering promises he had every intention of keeping.
It’s mind-boggling how one person can become two entirely different people. The Demyen in Fiji is worlds away—literally—from the Demyen sitting on the couch, listening to Master drone on about whatever.
Even Demyen in the villa compound before we left for Fiji was different. Conflicted as he seemed, he was still funny. Playful. Considerate. Compassionate. And Willow loved him for it.
No. Don’t think of her. Not right now.
I force my mind to veer in another direction because if I start wondering about my sweet baby girl while looking at the man who is supposed to be taking care of her.
I steal a quick glance at Pavel. He promised, via Bambi, to protect Willow from Demyen. And even though he’s pointedly looking anywhere but directly at me, I have to imagine that he’s as shocked as I am to see Demyen share a friendly conversation with the man who bought me.
Who bruised me.
Who has plans to do much, much worse.
Master’s hands suddenly move over my lower abdomen. The touch yanks me out of my thoughts.
“I think that will be the sweetest revenge,” he drawls while splaying one large hand over what is essentially my womb. “Can you imagine the look on his face when he sees me fuck a baby into her? And I’ll make her carry it, too. Never waste good seed, especially when the woman is built for breeding.”
Blood drains from my face. It’s one thing to quite literally carry a secret under Master’s nose, banking on his lust to cover up the truth.
It’s another to hear him want it—and right in front of theactualfather of my unborn child.
Demyen doesn’t react. For a flicker of a moment, his brow twitches, but that doesn’t mean anything. Nor does the quick curl of his lip that falls back into a flat line. If he did actually care about what happens to me, he’d have said something by now.
“Would you like that?” Master sounds tickled pink. “It’ll be a bastard, of course. But Zakrevsky blood is still Zakrevsky blood, and I know you’ll be good to your new little brother or sister.”
54
DEMYEN
Oleg and I are having two completely different conversations. He’s focused on bragging about his master plan to save Tolya and exact vengeance on the whole of LVPD, the court justice system, and his new personal sex toy.
I’m focused on not ripping his fucking fingers off his fucking hand.
I’m shocked I’m not sweating through my shirt by now, given the sheer workout every muscle in my body is receiving from the singular act of restraint.
The only thing stopping me from going completely apeshit on Oleg is the fact that Pavel used one of our secret signal codes to let me know we are too outnumbered for me to even try.
I have to focus on something else. Like the fact that Clara is here. Right here, right in front of me.
Still in Vegas. Still on home turf.
And a lot closer to my literal home turf than I originally thought.
Relief floods my veins to the point where I’m almost overwhelmed. I might actually pass out. But I can’t risk that here, so I find something else yet again to balance out my shot nerves and keep me grounded in the moment.
