Page 16 of Meet Me In Central Park

“Just you in a place like this?” she asks in a teasing lilt. A part of me wonders if she takes anything at all seriously. “Surely you’ve got a mistress, some concubines tucked away, no? You’d get lost here, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ll fill it with a wife and children someday,” I tell her. “I’m not worried.”

A shadow crosses her features, and her jaw clenches. I wonder why.

The house itself is three stories, built from stone so dark it seems to absorb moonlight. Tall, with arched windows and a heavy front door reinforced with iron bands, it’s simple but sturdy.

Floodlights illuminate our way, casting shadows that dance across intricate stonework. The driveway curves around a blank area where a fountain used to stand. That was a bit much for my tastes.

I’ve got motion sensors hidden in the landscaping, a state-of-the-art alarm system, and the thick walls are reinforced. The one balcony off the master suite is secured with iron railings.

If it were daytime, you’d see the garden and benches carved of stone. I love this home. It’s mine. As the youngest in the family, that matters to me. Growing up, I got everyone’s hand-me-downs. I never went without, not since the Romanovs took me in at an early age, but my parents were pragmatic and made good use of everything they owned.

“It will be hard for someone to escape a place like this, won't it?” she says in a teasing voice, her head tipped to the side. She doesn’t seem intimidated or fearful at all… but excited.

I have my work cut out for me.

Bring it.

“Not difficult. Impossible.”

She laughs lightly, a pretty, musical sound. “Oh, definitely not impossible, mi cariño.”

It’s a challenge, then. She’s a fucking challenge.

I park the car in front of the house. I’ll move it in the morning. “Stay there,” I order. She smirks at me. I lean in close and rest my hand on her upper thigh, pressing it down to hold her still. “You’re mine, Isabella. You’ll do what I say. Do not test me. Do not provoke me. You forfeited your life to my family with your choices, so what happens next is all a mercy.” I squeeze her upper thigh. My dick aches. “Is that clear?”

“Mmm, si, señor,” she says in a thick drawl. “I hear and obey.”

Fuck.

I lick my lips and swallow, bringing my mouth to her ear. “Good girl. I’ll come around and get you.”

I open her door and take her by the arm. Her muscles tense in my palm. I imagine what it would feel like to have her tight, lithe body pinned beneath me.

We’ll get there.

She’s mine now. She broke universal law between the cartel and Bratva. I have the right to kill her for what she’s done. That would trigger an attack from her brother, but even he’d do the same thing if the situation were reversed. If Polina ever attempted anything as dangerous as she did, we’d extradite her to keep her safe… if we even got her back.

When we get to the entrance, I bend and grab the little package Aleks left for me.

She walks obediently beside me, taking it all in. “I’m impressed,” she says as we head inside. “My family hardly lives in poverty, but this… this is stunning.”

I roll my eyes. As if flattery will get her anywhere.

“Just look at this. You can tell it’s a luxury home. Those floors. Are they mahogany? Those high ceilings and crown moldings. My God, Lev, you have a crystal chandelier in the dining room.”

Forgot about that.

“But it’s secure, look at this. Those windows look reinforced, and I’d bet you have cameras trained on every inch of this place. And those mirrors are for more than show, aren’t they?”

Yeah, of course they are. Mirrors give an immediate view of every visible angle of the house.

“Listen, if we go out to dinner, you’re paying,” she says. “Obviously, you can afford it.”

My lips twitch.

“Cat got your tongue, handsome?”