Page 16 of Unholy Tsar

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs again, but this time, her gaze drops to her worn shoes. I take advantage of her distraction, silently circling the alley until she’s backed into the dead end. When she looks up again, her lips part in surprise at how expertly I’ve cornered her.

She steps back, and I move with her, dancing back and forth until I have her exactly where I want her: backed against the wall. I place my hands on either side of her, boxing her in. Her wide eyes drop to my lips and her pupils dilate. She swallows audibly, and my pants tighten as I imagine her doing just that with my cock stuffed in her mouth.

I shake the thought out of my head. The little mouse wants me. And I’m going to take full advantage of that. I lift my right hand from the wall and caress her soft cheek. “Tell me what I want to know, Myshka.”

“Or what?” she asks quietly.

“Or I’m going to take you right here in the open,” I threaten softly, watching as her breath hitches and her eyes dart down to where my cock is tenting my pants. A pretty shade of red colors her cheeks. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Her pink tongue swipes across her lips, and I lean closer until our breaths mingle. The sweet aroma of honey and vanilla washes over me, and I inhale greedily. She gulps.

“N–no,” she stammers. “I’ll t–tell you what you want. Just back off. I can’t breathe.” The last sentence is a breathless whisper. I smirk but move back a little.

“Look, I’m a parasite, okay?” she exhales. “I needed security badly, but I’m not the rich girl I’m pretending to be—which means I can’t afford one. Then I accidentally stumbled into Bree one day. She had the security detail. She’s also a kind girl, and I noticed she was lonely. So, I latched onto her. I became her friend, so I could always be next to her… with those security guards watching over both of us.”

“And what do you need security from so badly?”

“None of your—” She trails off with a soft gasp when I invade her personal space again. Her eyes flutter close. “Alright, alright. My past, okay? I needed—I still need protection from my past.”

“Tell me,” I demand, my tone sharp and insistent.

“I–I can’t,” she cries, tears suddenly slipping down her cheeks.

The sight grips my heart. I'm the only one allowed to make her cry. “I promise you, I’m more dangerous than anything in your past,” I growl, angry at her for making me feel this way.

I take a few steps away from her, needing to clear my own head. I’ve inhaled too much of her scent; it’s making me delusional, giving me a hero complex. I’m no hero. Fuck, I’m too old to be playing savior for anyone.

“I know. But you and the Kilpatricks, no matter how dangerous you are, you-you work within a code. You have honor. The people in my past? They don’t know what honor is.”

“Who are they?” I press again.

“You’re the expert, Maksim. Why don’t you figure it out?”

I narrow my eyes and take a threatening step forward. She whimpers, and the tip of my cock leaks precum as that sound shoots through my veins. A grown fucking man creaming his underwear like a randy teenager.

I turn from her, disgusted with my own lack of control. “Get out of my sight,” I command before I do something stupid like kiss her. Only I know I wouldn’t be able to stop at just a kiss.

Thankfully she doesn’t question me and just scurries away like the little mouse I’ve been calling her.

6

CECILIA

I try to avoid going to the next lesson the following day, but with Vincent and the other security guards glowering down at me, it’s impossible.

I wanted Bree’s security so badly, but now I’m trapped by it.

Like yesterday, Maksim’s already in the library of the Hamptons mansion when we arrive. I blush as I stare at his broad back. When I got home yesterday, I googled the meaning of Myshka. It literally translates to “little mouse” or “mousie” and is, apparently, a term of endearment.

I should be alarmed and offended that he’s calling me a little mouse—so why do I find it so hot? I’m twisted inside.

When he turns back though, any sign of levity or the playful seduction of yesterday’s interrogation is wiped clean. In its place is the cold and scary Maksim Smolov. I swallow as a shot of fear runs through me.

I gave him some information yesterday. Has he used it to find out more about me? Shit, I hope not, because that means the end of my friendship with Bree.

Whatever twisted chemistry there is between me and Maksim, I know if push comes to shove, he’ll hurt me—or worse—if he thinks I’m a danger to his precious niece.