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“Nikolai, meet my daughter, Katarina,” Dimitri announces coldly as he moves aside. “Printsessa, meet your fiancé.”
I don’t even glance at him. No sound leaves her lips, which creates an uncomfortable sensation deep inside me, no different from the sinking feeling one has when they’ve eaten something spoiled. Katarina’s eyes are brimming with dislike, and the sight only stirs the burning embers inside me. Dimitri slams his hands on her shoulders, and her body visibly jolts. With wide eyes, she stares at him.
“Igor and I will leave you and Nikolai alone for a few minutes,” Dimitri tells her. “Use the opportunity to get to know him.”
He forces a plastic smile onto his lips before he lets her go. Then he wraps an arm around his son and guides the bloody bastard out of the room, slamming the door behind them and leaving us alone.
Suddenly, I need a drink to calm my nerves. Walking behind the cabinet of my mahogany desk, I grab the bottle of Beluga and pour two shots. I return to Katarina, placing the ryumka into her cold, unresponsive hand.
For long moments, we stay silent, observing each other. Her gaze is sharp and guarded, slicing through the space between us. Normally, I would relish this moment of quiet intensity, but the tension makes me grip my glass tighter, compelling me to take a large swig. Although I desperately want to smash the icy silence, I let her lead. When she finally speaks, her tone is so piercing it could shatter glass, making me nearly drop my drink. However, I quickly steady my grip, masking any reaction to the sharpness of her words.
“You’ll come to regret the day you tried to take my freedom away from me,” Katarina threatens in a low, melodic voice, devoid of all emotion. Fearless, she shoots me a dirty look. “Mark my words.”
Instead of the hate that I thought would be swimming in those pale eyes, I see pure betrayal. She won’t hesitate to fight me tooth and nail. Her eyes hide even more.
“We’ll see who bows first, serdtse,” I say, suppressing a smile when she flinches at my use of the Russian word for heart. But Katarina holds herself under control.
I admire that.
Her eyes dance across my face, searching for . . . something. Licking her lips, she flashes me a wry smile as she slowly loosens her grip on the glass. As soon as she does, it falls to the ground, breaking on the hardwood floor.
Katarina might prove more difficult to deal with than I initially anticipated.
“Next time you do anything like this, I’ll make you get on your knees to clean up the mess with your tongue,” I threaten her, smirking. “While I fuck you from behind.”
Her eyes widen with surprise as she stares at me. Katarina may be far from naïve, but she doesn’t seem to know a single thing about powerful men and the thoughts we harbor.
Something akin to amusement laces her voice.
“You think highly of yourself, don’t you?” she asks casually, tilting her head to the right, and I can barely restrain myself from reaching out and caressing her neck. She grins with satisfaction as if knowing the effect she has on me. “That’s not how love works.” She chuckles.
The mention of love always puts me in a foul mood. Someone loved me once, and that love was taken away by force. Her comment deepens the hole in my chest.
My mouth curls up as an acid baritone slips past my tongue, “That’s definitely how our love is going to work.”
My words wipe the smile from her face. I watch her bite her lower lip nervously.
The small movement of her lips draws my attention, and I feel heat skittering over my skin. A single thought burns through my brain like fire, consuming everything in its path.
I will have her.
All of her.
And no one can change my mind.
“Don’t bite that lip so hard, serdtse,” I warn, my voice growing hoarser. “I’m the only one who can mark you. I hope you like it rough. Otherwise, I’m afraid you won’t enjoy our time together.”
The tension in the air is thick. It hangs around us like heavy fog, slowly starting to choke us. My pulse quickens along with my breathing, and I glance back down. Katarina stands still, staring at the broken pieces of the glass.
“How dare you!” she seethes with fire, bringing her face a mere inch away from mine. She raises her palm to slap me across the face.
Catching her by her slender wrist, I violently pull her closer, holding her stiff body to my chest. There’s not an inch of space between us. She jolts, hissing in pain, but my vice-like grip tightens even more as my fingers dig into her flesh.
“You will learn to behave and show me respect,” I growl, my face lowering close to hers. “And fast.”
With no further words, I release her, giving her a gentle shove. She stumbles but catches herself by moving away from me.
“Get out!” I order. “Unless you want me to show you exactly what I mean.”
