Page 103 of Bratva Menace

“Get enough?” he asked, humor dancing in his eyes.

“No,” I answered honestly. It would never be enough. “But it will do. For now.” I flicked through the images. “I can’t wait to add these to my scrapbook.”

“Your…scrapbook?” he asked, brows slightly creased in a frown.

I put my phone back away. “If you’re lucky, I might show it to you one day.” He wasn’t ready for that, though. “You good to go?”

“Yep.” His gaze ran the length of my body, and hunger flashed in his eyes. “You look⁠—”

“Sexy? Mouthwatering? Fuckable?”

“Like you’ll be the death of me,” he breathed out in awe.

My heart pounded in my chest. It’s working. It’s fucking working.

“What’s working?” he asked.

Whoops. I smiled sheepishly. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes. What’s working?”

Well, might as well go all in now. “My plan to make you obsessed with me.”

He said nothing, just staring deeply into my eyes. I wished I could read his mind. Know what he was thinking. Lukyan was an expert at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. I thought I was an expert at reading them, but I realized then that I wasn’t as good as I thought I was, because I had no idea what was running through his head.

A moment passed between us. A significant, defining moment. Something crucial to the progression of our relationship. I was sure of it.

Shutters closed over Lukyan’s eyes. “We should go,” he grunted out roughly.

Or maybe not.

Music blasted through the air, a constant thump, thump, thump vibrating through my body from the bass of the R’n’B song blaring from the speakers. Strobe lights flashed different colors around the club. Smoke billowed into a cloud around us from the smoke machines. Bodies were crammed onto the dance floor, everybody dancing and letting their demons loose.

Lukyan and I included.

We jumped. We danced. We bobbed and weaved. We made absolute fools of ourselves, and neither one of us gave a shit about it, just enjoying the night. The atmosphere was electric—exactly what we needed to relax and have fun.

Club Noir was located in the city a few hours from the house. It was a good place, with an awesome vibe, cheap drinks, and good music. There was nothing harder than trying to dance to music that wasn’t your taste.

For hours, we just let the beat of the music run through our bodies. Let all our dramas and worries just disappear, living entirely in the moment before us. I’d been watching Lukyan for over a year and half, and I’d never seen him so relaxed, having so much fun. It made me happy seeing him so happy. So wild. So carefree.

Exactly how he should have been.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Lukyan whispered in my ear. He was behind me, grinding up against my ass to the best of the music. His hands were all over me. On my hips. Fanning out across my stomach. Inching up toward my breasts and then sliding back down, absolutely torturing me.

I loved it. Loved having his undivided attention like that, especially when so many others were trying hard to get him to notice them. Women and men kept looking over at him, throwing him sultry and come hither looks, hoping he would ditch me for them. Stupid bitches, the lot of them. If I weren’t in such a good mood, I would have already killed them, but, lucky for them, I was feeling gracious.

I still needed to show everyone that he was mine, though.

A gorgeous—and I mean gorgeous—woman over at the bar was eyeing him hard, her gaze heated and filled with want. It didn’t seem to matter that he was all over me. That, to the outsider’s eye, we were most definitely together. She saw a man she wanted, and didn’t care if he was there with someone else.

I hated women like that.

I was a girl’s girl, through and through. If a man was taken, he was fucking taken.

We were just going to ignore the fact that I killed women who touched Lukyan.

That didn’t count.