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“You should have done it anyway. Fuck him.”
“It’s probably best I didn’t.” Demyen looks at me in confusion. I sigh and shrug my shoulder. “My favorite flowers? They’re beautiful.” I kick a loose stone down the path. “And very, very poisonous.”
It would’ve been so tempting. There were two things Martin demanded I do without question: fuck him and feed him. How easy would it have been to slip a few bleeding hearts into the coffeemaker?
“I have to admit,” Demyen says, “it’s that same reason why I’ve stayed away from serious relationships. Women can be very beautiful—and very, very poisonous.” He quickly glances at me. “Except you. Which… surprised me.”
I… I don’t know what to say. I thought I was his Number One Enemy, or at least his favorite prisoner. He thinkshe’ssurprised? I’m floored. “Oh. Er, thank… you.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I still think you’re pretty fucking dangerous.”
I whip my gaze to him. He’s already staring at me, that cocky smirk melting into something more… well,more. My breath catches. When he leans in closer, I think he’s about to?—
He stops just short of the kiss that might change things for both of us forever. Instead, he straightens and runs a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling wearily as he does.
“I need a drink,” he blurts. “You do, too. Come with me.”
2
DEMYEN
I lead her to a leather lounge chair in one of the more private corners of the High Roller’s Lounge. The bartender already knows what I prefer, and I signal for him to make two. Both of us need something stiff.
The thought was innocent, but my dick doesn’t care. It’s immediately reminding me I have more than one stiff thing I can give her.
We sit in silence, each to their own chair. It’s just as well; being so close to her does a number to my senses. I can’t think straight and yet, at the same time, there’s so much clarity.
Maybe she’s right—maybe sheispoisonous.
And I’m fucked. Because nothing can stop me from drinking her in.
Her nose scrunches when she sips the bourbon. Fucking adorable. She gingerly sets the tumbler on the end table. “I’m sorry, by the way.”
I mask the sudden cough on my own sip with a sniff. “For what?”
Clara sighs and leans her head back against the chair. “I should have listened to you. You were right. It was a trap, and an obvious one.”
I down my tumbler and signal for another one. I have a feeling I should just make him leave the bottle. “I didn’t want to be right. It would’ve been nice to see someone with a decent father for a change.”
Her head rolls just enough for her to peer at me through her long lashes. “You never talk about your parents.”
I’m not sure if that’s a question or an accusation. “What’s there to talk about? My father was a selfish asshole and my mother was a cheating whore.”
Clara sucks in a sharp breath. “Dem…”
Yeah. Gonna need that bottle.“I’m not saying that out of malice. It’s a fact. My parents only put themselves first; fuck the well-being of their kids. Eventually, my mother—if you could call her that—ran off with one of her boyfriends. And my father just decided he was done being responsible for anyone at all and just fucked right the hell off.”
“How old were you?”
I scoff. “Old enough to know what was going on. Young enough to still need a caretaker. Tolya stepped in as the newpakhanand was able to file for guardianship over me.”
I know what she’s thinking. Or imagining, given the tears brimming those lashes. She’s envisioning some wide-eyed, innocent child lost in the world, abandoned by his parents, clinging to his big brother’s hand. She’s imagining me as some weak, helpless little thing.
Hardly.
Truth is, I was already a teenager when Dad gave us and his Bratva a giant middle finger and vanished. We could not have been more relieved; hell, we practically threw a party just to celebrate our newfound freedom.
But with his absence came a new set of responsibilities for Tolya.
