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“My cousin James, who’s lived with us since his parents died when he was a kid, is also my bodyguard and constant shadow,” I have no idea why I’m explaining this. “He’s studying law at Harvard.”
“Is that what you’re studying?” Andrey asks, and I can see he’s genuinely interested.
He’s probably already making a note in his head to have me taken out of college. Are Bratva women even allowed to have a degree or brains? Or do they just have to move around as trophies on their husband’s arms and their sex toys at night?
“No!” I shake my head, and I see the surprise in his eyes. “My father put me off law. I have no faith or trust in it.”
“Ah.” Andrey nods. “Because he defends my kind.”
“I wouldn’t call it defending. I call it manipulating the outcome,” I say honestly, and I can’t help the disdain and disgust in my voice. “I’ve seen my father in action in a courtroom. His favorite hook is reasonable doubt. Then, when he’s sowed that seed, and he always does, he starts tearing apart the innocent party until he has the criminal looking like the victim.”
“Who’s to say the person you think is the criminal wasn’t the victim?” Andrey says. “Right and wrong are just two sides of the same coin.”
“Is this the someone’s right is another person’s wrong speech?“ I raise my brows at him. “Because I’ve heard it a million times, and each time I know it’s just bullshit. Sure, there are two sides to every story, but everyone knows what’s morally right or wrong. I don’t care who you are.” I see him nod as he takes in my words. “People like you do know there’s a line between wrong and right. You just like to push it to suit whatever fucked up shit you’ve done.”
He stiffens. “Your father makes sure that everyone gets a chance at being heard. When shit does go down, and people like me are just passing by, we’re the first people the blame falls on and, most often than not, the last.”
“Exactly,” is all I say. “The system is broken, and I don’t want to be a part of it just like I don’t want to be a part of the dark underbelly—your world!”
“We have to play the hands we’re dealt in life,” Andrey says, turning to leave. “How you play them is up to you.”
“Really?” I look at him in disbelief. “You can’t play when someone else has taken your cards.”
“You’ll get your cards back when I feel you can be trusted.” Andrey stares at me for a while and nods. “On that note, I’ll say good night.”
I don’t say a word and watch him go. This time, I don’t wait to hear the lock turn.
“Fucking a-hole. I’m not waiting for anyone to give me my cards back. I’m going to be playing with a whole new deck.“ My heart jolts in excitement, turning back toward the wardrobe.
“I saw some jogging leggings and a compression shirt in his mother’s wardrobe.“ I snort. “Yeah, right. Mother’s wardrobe.”
I quickly strip off the overly large shirt and jeans. I’m naked beneath it because my white lacy undies are a gooey cocktail-stained mess in Andrey’s office bathroom at the Velvet Lounge.
I’ve just stepped out of my jeans when the bedroom door flies open once again and stops dead still. My eyes widen, staring in surprise at Andrey.
Chapter 6
ANDREY
I finish my phone call and glance over at Isabella. She looks like she’s enjoying driving her birthday present and is lost in her own thoughts. We’re going to have a flood of people surrounding us when we get to her father’s house, so I leave her to her thoughts.
I pick up my phone and start going through my messages, but my mind wanders back to three nights ago—the first night we met and Isabella dropped into my life. A few moments of that night are the most notable for me.
Particularly the one where I stormed back into her room after letting her get beneath my skin with her retorts about me being a monster. I know I’m a monster, and I usually don’t give a fuck when called one. But Isabella just has this way of making it burn.
Three Nights Ago - Andrey’s Apartment
I storm down the hallway, fuming. That woman deserves to be put over my knee and spanked! The image of her creamy ass in the air with her bent over me instantly makes my pants feel uncomfortable, and I shake the image away.
I have no idea why I allow Isabella to get beneath my skin like that. I don’t give a fuck what the world thinks of me as long as my enemies know better than to cross me and my men respect me and are loyal to me. Who gives a fuck about anyone else?
I know I shouldn’t care what Isabella thinks about me, but I must do as it’s eating me up inside. How dare she look down her perfect little nose at me and raise her chin like I’m shit beneath her shoe.
The way she scrunches up her beautiful, symmetrical heart-shaped face, and her big hazel eyes, flecks of gold, stare at me with disdain makes my blood boil. She’s lucky I didn’t grab a handful of her dark, silky hair, yank her head back, and show her what a monster I really can be.
Anger hits me again, and I take a breath. Who the fuck does Isabella think she is? I know who she doesn’t think she is, and her father is going to have a lot of explaining to do to his little princess. I run my hands through my hair and suddenly remember the feel of her hands raking through it.
I can still feel the strands of her hair in my hands, and my cock starts to harden at the memory of what it felt like sliding into her slick tight virgin pussy. Jesus! I lob my head back and take a breath. The woman is driving me insane.
