Page 26 of Bound in Possession

She is a striking, beautiful woman well-known within our elite criminal circles, and until recently, she was someone I used to fuck regularly. It was never anything emotional—just clean, transactional pleasure. But since buying Camilla at the auction, I haven't reached out to her once. In fact, to cut off any loose ends, I had explicitly ordered Dmitri to block her number and bar her from contacting me entirely.

Both of them bring their stride to a halt directly in front of me and Camilla.

Matteo’s eyes immediately lock onto Camilla, a polite but calculated smile spreading across his face. "Ah, the beautiful Camilla Caruso," he says, giving a courteous nod of acknowledgment. "The rumors didn't do you justice. It seems congratulations are in order, Pakhan."

Lydia, however, completely ignores Camilla's presence. She doesn't even spare her a glance, keeping her brilliant eyes pinned entirely on me.

"I'm hosting a private gathering at the opera next week, Maksim," Matteo says, shifting his focus back to me, his tone dropping to a more serious, hushed hum. "I've come across some highly sensitive intelligence regarding Viktor's current whereabouts and his next move. We should discuss it there, away from all these prying eyes."

I hold his gaze, weighing the trap against the value of the information. "I'll be there," I reply flatly. "Send Dmitri the details."

"Excellent," Matteo smiles, satisfied.

With the business concluded, Lydia takes a deliberate step closer to me. She looks up through her lashes, her smile turning slow, sultry, and heavy with unspoken promises.

She lets her gaze drag down the front of my tailored suit before meeting my eyes again. "You look devastatingly handsome tonight, Maksim," she purrs, her voice a low, seductive murmur meant to remind me exactly of what we used to share. "It's been far too long."

I keep my expression a dead, unreadable mask, giving her absolutely nothing to work with.

Sensing the brick wall she just hit, Lydia smoothly steps back beside Matteo, though her eyes never lose their predatory gleam. "We'll leave you to your evening," she says, her gaze lingering on me for one last charged second. "I'll see you at the opera next week."

With that, she turns and walks away with Matteo, her hips swaying deliberately as they disappear back into the glittering crowd.

I turn my head to look back at Camilla. She is sipping her drink slowly, her eyes fixed entirely on the amber liquid in her glass, completely refusing to look at me. There is a sudden, sharp edge to her posture now, a rigid tension radiating off her that wasn't there two minutes ago.

I know exactly why she’s like this. Lydia.

A rational man would immediately reassure her, tell her that nothing is wrong and that Lydia is old news, completely blocked from my life. But I am not a rational man. Seeing the subtle, icy fury rolling off Camilla sends a strange thrill through me. I actually enjoy her jealousy. It means she cares more than she lets on, even if she'd rather die than admit it.

I lean closer, intending to provoke her a little more. "Princess⁠—"

"I need to use the bathroom," she snaps, cutting me off before I can even start.

With a sharp movement, she slaps her crystal glass back onto the marble bar. I’m honestly surprised the glass doesn't shatter into a million pieces under the force of her irritation. Without waiting for my response, she turns on her heel and storms away from the bar.

I smother a dark laugh, watching her retreat. Her hips sway beautifully with every angry step she takes, drawing the immediate, lingering attention of several other men in the hall. My amusement flares into a dangerous, protective heat as I track the eyes following her. They can look all they want, but they know better than to touch what belongs to me.

The moment she disappears from my line of sight into the corridor leading to the restrooms, the smile leaves my face. I drain the rest of my drink, place it down, and silently follow her into the shadows.

I push open the door to the elegant, secluded restroom corridor and step inside. Camilla is standing in front of the expansive mirror, carefully reapplying her lipstick. The second she spots my reflection behind her, a deep frown mars her perfect features.

Before she can utter a word of protest, I step fully into the room and twist the heavy lock on the door, shutting out the muted sounds of the gala.

"What are you doing in here, Maksim?" she demands, lowering the lipstick tube.

I take a slow step toward her, my eyes holding hers in the glass. "You walked away before I could finish my sentence. We need to talk about Lydia. There is no need to be jealous, princess. She is old news. I blocked her weeks ago, and she means absolutely nothing to me."

Camilla lets out a bitter laugh, turning around to face me fully, her chin lifted high. "If you’re talking about the woman from earlier, then you’re sorely mistaken, why would I be jealous?" She asks, her voice dripping with venom. "But I did not appreciate her behavior. I’m already trapped in this circus; I don't need to be the punchline of your past encounters."

I bridge the distance between us in a single stride, my presence towering over her until she’s forced to lean back slightly against the sink. My voice drops into a dark, fierce register. "Lydia doesn’t even hold a candle to you, Camilla. Look at me. I haven’t looked at another woman since the moment I saw you on that stage in Sicily."

She scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as if my words are nothing but a cheap line. "Please⁠—"

Tired of her denial, I reach out and grab her wrist. Before she can pull away, I firmly place her hand directly over the front of my trousers, pressing her palm against the rigid, heavy length straining against my zipper.

I am fully erect, and the sudden contact makes her let out a sharp, ragged gasp.

"Feel what you do to me," I growl, leaning down until my lips are inches from hers. "You think this is a game? You're the only one who spurs this kind of reaction from me."