AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Suddenly the doors burst open and heavy footsteps stomp against the hardwood floor. My hand tightens around the pen, but I relax as soon as I turn and face the intruder.
It’s Igor.
Most of my employees left for the day. I don’t want them to witness me subduing Katarina in case she decides to put up a fight. I do, however, count on her father’s threats to keep her obedient while they’re here.
“You’re either very brave to waltz in here without an invitation or extremely stupid,” I snarl, flipping the pen in the air. It falls back into the crease of my fingers right-side up.
“I came to ask you not to punish my sister for my transgression. Kata did nothing wrong,” Igor starts, closing the door behind him.
Annoyed, I slam the pen on the desk and rise from my seat, approaching him threateningly. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“Look, brother,” he mutters, a weary expression in his blue eyes. “We’ve been working together for a long time, have we not?”
“I’m well aware of that,” I seethe.
“Have I given you a reason to doubt my words in the past?” he asks.
His voice lowers as he slowly inches his way to the white leather couch, which dominates the space with its minimalistic elegance.
Shaking my head, I return to the floor-to-ceiling window that offers an unobstructed view of the cityscape. “That won’t change a thing, Igor.” I wave him away. “Your family and I do business. You represent the interests of the Bratva, and I make sure that my needs are met. Right now, I need to marry your sister.”
“I really didn’t come here to talk to you as my business associate,” Igor insists, not taking the hint.
Losing my patience, I growl, “Don’t be mistaken, you and I are not friends.”
I turn from him, but Igor grabs my shoulder, forcing me to face him.
“Leave my sister out of it,” he repeats, this time more forcefully.
I press my hand against his chest and give him a hard shove, making him hit the back of the couch. “You should’ve thought about this before you decided to fuck Gargarin’s daughter,” I bark.
Baring my teeth, I move into his personal space.
But Igor stands his ground.
Only then do the corners of my lips turn into an evil grin. I raise my fist and punch him in the face with enough force to send him flying backward. Blood splatters on the white of the couch. Grabbing Igor, I’m about to slam my fist against his ribs, but the door bursting open takes me by surprise.
“Enough,” a cold voice barks.
Slowly, I turn my face to the door.
Dimitri strides into my office with long, powerful steps.
The blonde woman behind him, on the other hand, is as stiff as a marble statue. Her heels barely touch the ground as she moves. Dimitri’s cold order was a warning both to me and his son, but it’s this girl who’s showing us how to act when around a pakhan. Still and unmoving, but on high alert.
She’s even more beautiful in person. Her cold and unwelcoming glance does nothing to dissuade me from my plan of marrying her. Her pale green gaze shifts to the mess on my couch. The horror in her eyes doesn’t leave an ounce of doubt as to how her father forced her to fall in line. I feel an acute pain in my chest, which I willingly squash before the warmth rising in my blood threatens to heat my cheeks. Still, this girl intrigues me enough to delay my revenge. The expression on her face is one of anger mingled with hatred. Her animosity is annoying, but I must focus on her fear now. What her anger does to me is a question I’d like to explore, yet now isn’t the moment. I’ll wait, like I’ve waited for two years—a mere blink of an eye.
They said it was a car accident, but I knew better than that. It’s not an accident if the other driver was drunk. The Sokolovs took what mattered to me most, and now I’m claiming their baby girl.
“Didn’t your father teach you to respect your friends, Nikolai?” Dimitri’s annoyed voice reaches me.
His hands separate us, pulling Igor’s body away from mine. The younger man smirks with victory on his swollen lips, but I don’t give a damn. In this moment, I only care about the woman in front of me.
Her hands rest against her flounced black dress, fingers tangled together. The plunging neckline shows a discreet trace of a fine scar on her skin just above the lace, which hides her breasts. Her long blonde locks dangle around her face, held up by a simple, black comb. Even though she tried hard to look as plain as possible, it only made her more alluring. My sources tell me that she’s a night owl, and she certainly knows how to look like one.
I have to keep my composure because this woman has managed to slip past all of my defenses in the fifteen seconds she’s been standing on my office threshold.
Her seafoam eyes latch onto mine, but Dimitri cuts off the view by positioning himself between us. His hand rests on my forearm.
