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I almost jump out of my chair and gasp at the voice as a shot of adrenaline spikes my heart rate. When I look over the other side of my shoulder, I notice a strong hand holding the edge of my chair. My gaze trails up the suit jacket, and a lump forms in my throat as piercing blue eyes stare back at me.
Eyes that I’ve drowned in many years before.
Dmitri Volkov.
Rage immediately fills my core, and I’m out of my seat before I know it. “You!” I seethe with a finger in his face.
“Me?” he says as if surprised by my accusing tone. “Weren’t you meant to be in Russia?”
“Was I not clear enough last time we spoke for you to stay the fuck away from me?” I growl out, surprised by the mixed emotions that arise—the hatred, the loathing, the something else there that I don’t want to acknowledge.
“Well, last time you threw a drink in my face. This time, you don’t have one, so I thought we were making progress.” He cocks an arrogant smile and his eyes drink me in. I hate the way that smug expression has tormented me all through our college years. The way he had control over me in ways that he never entirely knew. Or maybe he did, and that’s what was so damaging about this man.
“Perhaps next time it should be gasoline I throw on you instead,” I say defiantly, calming my pounding heartbeat and hardening my resolve.
His eyebrows perk up. “You’re already promising there will be another time? How forward of you.”
My jaw feels like it might split in pain with how tightly I grind it. This arrogant fucking prick has hardly changed. But he doesn’t look so much like a boy anymore. My stomach betrays me with warm flutters seeing him again, and I know I have to cut it off immediately.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Dmitri.”
“Who’s the pinprick dickhead that’s parading you?” he asks as he takes a step closer.
I back up into a set of chairs because it’s only instinctual to step away from a man who oozes with such power and intimidation. But then I’m reminded of another monster far worse than Dmitri. That hardens my resolve to deal with him.
“You can’t seriously be jealous?” I sneer. Because in the past Dmitri had always denied his irrational, jealous nature, telling me it was because I was his friend that he needed to protect me.
He was just being an asshole. Then and now.
“Just looking out for you, Cricket.” Dmitri winks with an arrogant smile.
“Don’t call me that,” I say as he steps into my space, and my back is almost pressed against the chairs.
“Stop avoiding the question,” he pushes. The next step I take back, my ankle awkwardly rolls in the heels, and I keel over, pushing a stack of chairs.
His strong hand grabs my elbow, catching me before I fall, but the pile of chairs crashes with a thunderous noise. My heart is pounding as millions of racing thoughts split my mind. What if Connor sees us together? What if they hurt him or anyone else I come back into contact with?
I rip my elbow free. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
His blue eyes narrow as I pull away from him yet again. A playboy like him probably isn’t used to women doing anything they can to avoid his touch.
“Does your sister know you’re in town?” he asks as he goes to reach out to touch my face, but I slap his hand away, the noise deafening as it echoes. His jaw tics and nostrils flare as he bunches his hand and places it back in his pocket.
“No. And it’s going to stay that way. Let me make one thing very clear, Dmitri. I still hate every fiber that you exist with. And if you so much as approach me again I’ll call the cops.”
His smile kicks up at the threat, not taking it seriously at all. I fucking hate how patronizing this asshole has always been. So, I go for the lowest blow I can possibly deliver.
“What could I possibly want with the son of a serial killer?” I look him up and down in disgust and I can tell I’ve hit his deepest wound. Rumors in college spread that he was a Bratva member’s son. The little I know about their non-existent relationship was that Dmitri hated his father with a vengeance, and even now he physically reacts to the mention of him. “My opinion of you hasn’t changed since college. You’re still an immature asshole who only thinks of himself and his dick. So go play nicely with yourself and leave me out of your games. And stay the fuck away from my family because anything you touch goes to shit.”
His jaw hardens as I shove him out of the way and go to take my leave. As I do, two waiters open the door, inspecting the noise they most likely heard. Because of the music playing at the event, hopefully, no one else noticed.
I don’t so much as look back over my shoulder but can feel Dmitri’s gaze on me as I leave.
He was the last person I wanted to know I was back in New York.I close my eyes as I slip through the door and back to the main event, praying that my scathing words targeting an already-infested wound will be enough to keep him away and not raise any suspicions.
He can hate me for all eternity.
Hell, I’m certain I still hate him.
