Page 8 of Roman Petrov


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When that delicate mouth of hers opens and closes soundlessly, I know I have her.

“As you can see, it’s twice the market value. I’ll have my lawyer send over the paperwork this afternoon.” I extend my palm in a silent bid for a handshake.

She just stares at it before giving the smallest of frowns.

“No.” The tiny squeak almost sounds like a mouse chirp.

I couldn’t have heard her correctly. “No?” My foot lands back on the marble floor. “You do realize who you’re speaking to?

“Not a clue. Should I care?” Her chin twists like she just ate something sour. “It doesn’t matter who you are, I can’t sell.”

“Roman Petrov.”

The rosy shade on her cheeks fades to pale as she takes in what I said.

She knows. My name carries significant weight here.

I’m not to be messed with.

“Let me ask again, lastochka. I’m offering double the worth. So you’re either stupid or?—”

She holds up her slim hand, stopping me. “I can’t sell, not that I won’t. My father’s will prohibits it. You think I look like I want to run one of those sleazy, disgusting places?”

What the hell did she just say to me?

A ball of heat forms in my guts.

“Clubs like that, and mine, are not the gathering place of the perverts of the world. It’s where people can free themselves of their reservations and enjoy some of the best things that life has to offer.” I’m tempted to show her my favorite thing that’s hardening in my boxers.

“It’s vile. Parading around screwing whoever. It normalizes cheating and destroys marriages.” Her jaw and her fists clench in unison.

I’ve found a sore spot. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t try to exploit it?

“Poor Nadia. You’ve never had a decent fuck have you? Is that why your dad’s place scares you so much?” Once I verbalize the thought, I can’t get the idea out of my head of throwing her across this table and making her scream my name.

She stands, shoving her chair hard enough that it rattles across the floor.

“You come into my house and speak to me like that? Get out.” Her arm flings outwards, one pink manicured nail pointing towards the exit.

I like this fire in her. She’s spunkier than my first impression.

“I know you haven’t. Shame, I bet you’re the perfect submissive deep down.” I have no doubts. This prudish act is hiding that she’s practically begging to be controlled.

Her little gasp makes my dick twitch.

“I bet you’d like it if I made you get on your knees and let me spank those pretty cheeks with my cock, wouldn’t you?” I catch her brief glance at the growing bulge in my slacks.

“You’ll never know, Mr Petrov.” She crosses her arms across her belly and brushes past me to the entrance. Opening the heavy door, my men shuffle to their feet where they’ve been waiting.

“We are quite done here. I want you to leave.” Nadia looks up to the ceiling as I grow closer.

She knows I saw what she was looking at.

Leaning in, my lips dance a breath away from her ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Gesturing to my men, they follow me back to my car.

When I start the ignition, I see her standing on the front step with fire in her eyes.

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