Page 32 of Savage


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He holds a thick, plush white towel like we’re at a hotel, and he’s here to serve me. I swallow and lick my lips.

I know better.

"You're the last brother to get married," I say, my voice husky. “Aren’t you?”

He's going to want children soon, very soon. It’s how the Romanovs operate. My brother is going to get in touch and demand I tell him everything I know. I'll need to have something to give him, but I'm not sure what. "I do wish that you would—" I turn around to face him and stifle a gasp when he's suddenly right in my space, his green eyes burning into me. The towel falls to the floor, forgotten.

Unnecessary.

He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, backing me up until my back hits the bathroom door. My skin burns under the heat of his gaze.

"No one is watching us in here,” he reminds me.

I smirk at him. "Only if your brother is a much bigger creep than I thought."

His mouth descends on mine, branding me, annihilating me. I melt under the heat, his tongue tangling with mine. I reach for his clothes as he reaches for my naked body. His hand fists in my tangled, wet hair. When he pulls away, he grabs my chin in his big, rough hand and holds my gaze.

"Did you betray us?" he growls.

I want to slap him. I want to claw at his beautiful, heartbreakingly handsome face and make him scream. I want to shake him until he sees the truth.

Instead… my voice breaks. My heart aches. I blink back tears of fury and tell him the truth. "YouknowI didn't.”

"Then who took you from here?"

I pinch my lips together. He grabs me by my shoulders and gives me a hard shake. My teeth rattle, but I still manage to glare at him.

"I can't answer that question, and you know it."

He curses in Russian and shakes his head. “I need your body checked. What if you’re hiding something on your person?”

“Like in… a body cavity? Oh God.Ew.”

Panic slices through me.

"I could have my brother search you, but I don't want anybody near you. Do you understand?" His hand is on my jaw, his grip firm. "You belong to me, Renata.Iwas the one who went down to Colombia to find you.Iwas the one who questioned you. I was the one who bled for you.” He shakes me again. “Do you understand me?" he repeats.

My eyes widen, and I nod, not knowing what to say. Tears prick my eyes.

"You're going to be my wife soon, Renata. From now on, I expect you to act like it. Am I clear?" Bright-green eyes hold my gaze with his, the tone of his voice implacable.

When I don't answer right away, his huge palm cracks against my naked ass. I scream, choking on my breath as he shakes me again.

He’s losing his mind and is going to snap, a man pushed to his absolute limits.

"You'll do what I say. I know who you're dealing with. Everyone else believes your brother is dead. I know better, don't I?"

Shit.

I look at him pleadingly. If there’s any chance we are being watched, I can't risk acknowledging this.

“He’s dead,” I whisper. I blink, and a tear falls down my cheek. We’re all dead. Renata Carerra, the little girl who grew up in Colombia under her parents’ thumb. Ollie Romanov, the boy who grew up a homeless scrapper on the streets of New York before the Romanovs took him in. Carlos, the brother who once loved me.

He kisses down the side of my jaw, down to my neck, and bites my shoulder. A moan escapes my lips, and heat blooms between my legs.

"I believe that you were taken against your will," he whispers in my ear. "But I don't know why you're back here and not dead. I don't know what his endgame is, but I know this—anyone who comes near you has to go throughmefirst.”

I nod and swallow. "Good girl," he whispers in my ear. "You’re going to be punished for disobeying me… for everything." He spins me around to face the door and plants both hands flat on the surface. This is a large, spacious room, but there's not enough air in here, no matter how hard I breathe.

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