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“I don’t want to talk about it,” he states coldly.
But I’m not ready to give up. Not when my heart can’t find a steady rhythm. Grabbing his arm, I try to regain his attention. “Gleb, just talk to me. Are you mad? What’s wrong?”
Turning on me so suddenly that I nearly slam into his chest, Gleb looks down at me with such intense anger, I know I must have done something to piss him off.
“Is there a reason you have to walk around the house practically naked?” he demands.
“I-I—I thought you might like it.” My heart sinks as I look down at the soft fabric.
“Yeah, well, you’re only making this harder than it needs to be. You’re here so I can keep you safe, but what happened last night can’t happen again. It was a mistake, and we both know it, so just… go to bed, Mel.”
His words rip through me as Gleb turns and slams his bedroom door in my face. He really thinks sleeping with me was a mistake.
The effort I put in today has only come back to bite me.
Because I now know without a doubt that Gleb no longer wants me.
And worse, I don’t think he would want to hear that Gabby’s his daughter.
2
GLEB
Standing under the scalding water of my shower, I watch the pink-tinged suds circle the drain before vanishing from sight. It’s been a shitty day. It would seem the initiation for joining Mikhail’s Bratva has changed since last I heard.
The rite of passage used to be kidnapping a girl who would then be sold into Mikhail’s sex trafficking ring. But it appears that the Veles—my clan—are Mikhail’s new favorite plaything. Picking off our remaining men is the Zhivoders’ new, twisted MO to confirm their initiates’ loyalty.
Which means Sascha’s admittance into their ranks tonight cost good Veles men their lives. There was no other way to get my brother placed in Mikhail’s Bratva and give him a running start toward earning Mikhail’s trust.
But that doesn’t make the blood on my hands feel any less sinful. Those men’s lives were my responsibility—as are their deaths. Their sacrifice is a black mark I’ll never be able to wash off my soul.
Scrubbing my skin clean until every last ounce of my men’s blood is off my body, I take cleansing myself to a near ritualistic level.
Still, I can’t wash the images from my mind. The way they searched for me in the darkness, hoping I might come to their aid at the last second. The moment the light left their eyes. My brother is an artist when it comes to violence.
At least he made their deaths quick—as painless as possible.
But that’s hardly a consolation.
No matter how tortured I am by self-loathing, though, I shouldn’t have snapped at Mel like I did. Just another thing for me to feel guilty about. Because this is her home now. She has a right to wear what she wants, to do as she pleases—so long as she obeys the rules I laid down to keep her and Gabby safe.
It’s no excuse, but after such a terrible day, coming home to find her long legs bare, her pert, braless nipples poking through the soft fabric of her top—it was too much. She’s so damn appealing. I feel like I’m at my wit’s end whenever I’m around Mel. I couldn’t find it in me to keep my cool, to establish a healthy boundary between us.
Clearly, Mel feels indebted to me for helping her, but the last thing I want to do is start something intimate with her when she considers it compensation for my protection. All she’s learned in life is that men consider her body a commodity, so that’s how she’s trying to repay me. I can’t allow my weakness for her to reinforce that belief.
I’ve made that mistake three times already—once three years ago, when I saved her from Mikhail Sidorov’s sex trafficking circle, again when I found Mel in Boston last week, and then last night, when she came into my room and kissed me. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop myself.
I’ve never met anyone so alluring. So intoxicating. I lose my mind every time Mel gets close.
I can’t let it happen again.
I swallow hard and clench my jaw as the image of her in those sexy little booty shorts and matching lace-trimmed silk sleep top rises, unbidden, into my mind. Her wide-eyed concern in the entry when she saw the blood on my clothing. How her first reaction was to close the distance between us, to touch me, to remove my clothes in an effort to help me.
She was suddenly so near that her enticing perfume muddled my senses.
The arousal mingled with my overwhelming guilt, compounding it tenfold.
I couldn’t help myself.
