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How quickly my interest has grown into infatuation. She’s a woman now, so I can hardly be blamed, but no matter how much I wish for such a thing to be true, there’s one glaring obstacle standing in my way.
Her marriage.
To the fucking Kuznetsovs, of all people. I drag deeper on my cigarette, catching it between my fingers and tapping off some of the excess ash.
They are a much bigger problem. Not just because any interference in the marriage arrangement would create a political headache, but from Aleksander’s point of view, there has to be a gain of some kind. Never would he grant me Alena. In fact, he’d probably kill me if he knew how I hungered to claim his daughter.
Darkness surrounds Mikhail’s family. It always has. They’re dangerous, psychopathic even. They come from a twisted line with morals that would make even the devil think twice about dropping by. As one who enjoys the darker things in life, especially in the bedroom, I’m not one to judge. There’s a delicious pleasure to be had on the cusp of pain, a unique excitement to be enjoyed when swathed in humiliation.
I’m a taker. My hands leave bruises, my toys leave marks so deep they can brand a soul, and I have a deep-rooted desire for obedience and understanding. It takes a strong hand to whip a lover to orgasm on pain alone, but it takes a stronger hand still to make them beg for it, to make them want that sweet lick of pain because the resulting orgasm is like a drug they can’t get enough of.
It wouldn’t be so bad if that was all the Kuznetsovs were into. But their sadistic talents stretch beyond just the world of sex, and usually, I wouldn’t care.
Not my family, not my business.
Until now.
Until Aleksander decided that giving Alena to them was the right move.
There’s no one in the world I want to get their hands on her. I know that as sure as I know my own name. But they are a special case. There’d be nothing left of her when they were finished.
The flame from the cigarette suddenly scalds my lips, and I wince faintly, letting it fall from my mouth. So lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed how aggressively I was breathing, barely registering each puff.
“Fuck,” I grumble, stamping down on the dying embers.
Alena is a distraction I can’t afford.
And yet, I want her.
No, I need her.
“Kristof?”
In my distracted state, I hadn’t even heard Melanie’s approach. She stands before me now, purse clutched in her hands and one brow raised.
“What?”
“Are you alright? You look like you’ve just chewed a wasp.”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“Well, that party was a bit shit. All that fancy stuff just for a bunch of boring people to stand around talking. How do you stand it?” she asks, smirking, her eyes dancing across me. I know this game. She’s vying for more time.
“It’s how these things work. I didn’t bring you here to judge or think,” I reply.
“Why did you bring me? I’m not complaining, but I barely saw you all night. You were always off with that girl.”
There was something in Melanie’s tone, a slight edge that spread like an accusation across my skin, and an uncomfortable heat lanced down my spine.
Fuck.
Suddenly, the thought of spending one more second with this woman churns my stomach, so I shove my hand into my jacket pocket and pull out a wad of bills. Without even counting, I thrust them into her hands.
“What the hell is this?”
“Payment. Now fuck off.”
“What?” Melanie clutches at the bills, trying to gather them all in a way she can count. Some bills fall from her hands, and she crouches to gather them up.
