Page 20 of Velvet Venom

“Yes, I’m soon to become the next Belov Pakhan, as my fathers only living son.”

My confusion, irritation, and anger dissolve into fear. The Belovs are well known for their ruthlessness.

“I can see that you understand the situation now,” Andrey says, his eyes searching mine as if trying to pull secrets from my mind. “And you obviously know who we are, which saves me from having to explain.”

I pull away from him again, taking a few steps back and nearly topple over the coffee table but Andrey reaches out and grabs me before I crash through the glass top in my clumsiness.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, pulling away from his hand and side stepping him.

My eyes dart toward the bathroom before I remember escape 101—don’t ever give away that you’re looking for an escape route. But my eyeballs had darted to where my clothes are before I could stop them. I hope he didn’t notice.

“I’m sorry, Bella.” Andrey’s voice drops and I meet his eyes. “There’s no escape for you now, little spitfire.”

Don’t let the predator know he’s intimidated you. I take a breath and raise my chin, making myself calm down. “I know who you are.” My voice is calm, belying my racing heart. “I know what your family is capable of because my father is Ivan Belov’s attorney.”

I see Andery stand dead still as surprise flashes in his eyes and he stares at me in astonishment. “Wait!” His eyes narrow. “You’re Marco Moretti’s daughter?”

“I am!” I square my shoulders. “And he’ll never allow me to marry into your criminal family. He may defend monsters, but at least we’re not a crime family like yours.”

Andrey seems even more surprised by my outburst. “Your father’s not linked to a crime family?” I can see his astonishment deepen.

“No, we are not!” I tell him looking at him like I’m the queen of the world that does not operate in the shadows of his shady underworld.

His brow furrows and his eyes narrow. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“It depends what you’re talking about,” I tell him, not sure what he’s referring to.

“Bella, who’s the man you’re supposed to be marrying?” Andrey asks, watching me and I know exactly what he’s doing as I’ve been trained to do the exact same thing. He’s assessing me, looking for any signs I’m lying.

“Again, none of your business,” I tell him.

“I can find out,” Andrey assures me and starts walking toward his desk. “I have Marco on speed dial.”

“Okay!” I’d rather not get my father involved. Not that I wouldn’t mind him shooting Andrey at the moment. I take a breath. “He didn’t tell me anything. I overheard a conversation he was having with someone on a conference call.”

I close my eyes and ball my fists at my side. I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment once more. But why should I feel embarrassed? I give myself a quick pep talk. My father had kept me in the dark about my secret betrothal my entire life. I have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

“Did you not overhear who you were betrothed to?” Andrey keeps prying as he perches on the end of his desk.

“No!” I say honestly. “And I don’t really care. Because as soon as I’m dressed, I’m on the next plane to as far away from America as I can get.”

“I don’t think so, Bella,” Andrey tells me, pushing away from his desk and walking toward me chuckling.

“You think this is funny?” I seethe. “My entire life my father has ruled over my every move.” And the anger is back. “He kept promising me that when I was twenty-five I’d have my freedom after my studies were done and I’d thank him. Because I’d have a degree and could make my own way in the world. But until then, relationships were a distraction he couldn’t allow to ruin my future.”

Fuck did I really just blurt that all out? Right now I don’t care. I spin on my heel and march into the bathroom. I pull on my jeans, squash my feet into my pumps, and grab the rest of my things before storming back into Andrey’s office heading for the door.

Only he steps in front of me. “I told you Bella, you’re not going anywhere.” He tilts my head back with his hand once again. “You’re mine now, little spitfire.”

“I don’t belong to anyone!” I hiss. “Now please, just let me go.”

“I can’t do that,” Andrey tells me. “You see Bella, you’ve belonged to me since you were three years old.” I step back pulling away from him with a gasp as lightning bolts of shock hit me.

“No!” My brain is reeling as a fog of confusion engulfs me and my heart hammers harder against my ribs—surely Andrey can’t be Quasimodo? “It can’t be!”

“I’m afraid so, Isabella.” Andrey’s voice is low. “It seems like we don’t need to go to Vegas after all.” He glances at my belly once again. “But we will have to move the marriage up by at least six months, and you’ll be moving in with me from tonight.”

To be Continued...