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“You’re safer at the house. Something isn’t right, and I need to figure this out before it gets out of control,” I reply, trying not to sound too harsh. She’s definitely in shock after what I did to her father, but I did warn her about it.
“I want to help,” she says, holding me so hard that it hurts.
I wince, trying to pry her off. I didn’t realize she was so strong, but it seems that she’s not going anywhere unless I can convince her to return to the house with Ivan.
“Listen, darling, this is about your safety,” I say softly.
She laughs, and its ice cold. I haven’t heard a laugh like that from her before. “I’ll never be safe in the Bratva. If you really cared about my safety, you would’ve brought me back to my father before the wedding, but you chose to keep this going. You chose me, and now you have to deal with me.”
“And I will deal with you… once I’m home. You need a good spanking,” I reply, switching my tactics. I lay a hand on her ass, tapping it lightly. “I won’t go easy on you.”
She grabs my hand, forcing me to spank her as she looks up at me. “Do whatever you want to me, Viktor. Punish me like the stupid little slut you think I am, but I still want to go with you.”
Her words give me an ungodly rush more powerful than the drugs I used to take as a teenager to cope with my family’s death. It’s scary how intoxicating she can be when she wants to. I’m sure she could get me drunk off her sexual energy and take advantage of me if she really wanted.
Thankfully, she’s only using it to tag along on my little adventure, and I’m thinking it’s not worth the trouble trying to argue with her.
“Fine,” I say, squeezing her ass and pulling her closer. “If you want to go all-in with the Bratva, so be it. Just don’t start begging for a therapist when you get traumatized.”
“I’m already traumatized,” she mutters.
“Oh, darling,” I reply, running my finger under her chin. “You don’t know trauma like I do.”
I don’t leave her any time for a response. We continue moving down the hallway to the exit on the left side of the house, away from the crowd. The party will continue as usual, but we won’t show up. Let our guests think what they want, but we have other matters to attend to.
Ivan is already outside, standing beside the car that’s going to take us to my casino. I know who Johnny is, and where he works. He slinks around the blackjack tables, but occasionally deals poker when someone else is absent.
He’ll be starting his shift this afternoon, but he’s not going to make it to the table. We’ll be ready for him once he arrives.
“Why would Johnny know anything about the wedding?” I ask myself as I slide into the white leather seat in the back of the car.
Sage slides in beside me, and Ivan goes to the front to drive us.
“Maybe he learned it from someone else,” Sage offers.
“And your father came in and singled him out… why?” I ask. “Security should’ve kept him out, anyway. I doubt he even made it into the casino. How would he have even asked Johnny anything?”
“Sounds like a question you should ask Johnny,” she replies. “And don’t call him my father anymore. I don’t like hearing it.”
“What do you want me to call him?” I ask, a little surprised.
“You used to call him Mr. Thompson.”
“Sounds awfully formal,” I reply.
“Thompson is fine,” she says, annoyance building in her voice. “Anything, just not my father. He’s dead now, anyway, right?”
I nod. “You can’t live long with a smashed head.”
“That’s gross,” she says, wrinkling her nose at me as we pull away from the estate. “Are you always so crass about everything?”
“Relative to the other things I’ve seen and done, that’s nowhere near crass,” I say, putting my hand on her thigh. “But you wanted to be involved in the business end of things instead of just enjoying the money and power.”
She purses her lips as she looks at me. Even when she’s annoyed, she’s still unbelievably beautiful. The mascara stains on her face don’t change that at all.
“You might want to clean up the makeup before we get there,” I say, pointing at her face.
“More crassness,” she mutters, flipping down a mirror in the back seat. She gasps when she sees herself. “Shit, you’re right.”
