Defiant. Sweet. Alluring.
A business deal gone wrong brought me to her doorstep.
She's everything I shouldn't want; everything I was against after watching my mother's obsession destroy her.
Still, I can't stop myself from craving her.
I should know...
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The day progressively went downhill with every minute that passed.
The tension in the air was palpable. Neither side bothered to hide their disdain for the other.
Aleksei’s parents weren’t in attendance, and I doubted he was related to the people he invited. They got louder and got more obnoxious with every shot of vodka they took. One even grabbed a server’s ass, and she hadn’t hesitated to smack him hard on his bald head with her tray. I mentally high-fived her for that. Good riddance.
They were different from the brothers. Aleksei and Mikhail were reserved and calculating, drinking in the room with their eyes without saying a word.
They didn’t even bother to socialize with the rest of the crowd. It was as though they were storing information for later. They probably were just so they could use it against my family in the future.
The food I ate one hour ago was unsettled in the pit of my stomach, threatening to follow the path it had taken down my stomach back up. The air around the table was suffocating.
Seriously, why bother with an after-party if he was going to be gloomy all through the party?
I pushed back my chair, drawing my brother-in-law’s attention as I rose to my feet. My husband didn’t even bother to ask where I was headed to. No, he acted like the table was the most interesting thing he’d seen.
I didn’t know why, but his dismissal of me rubbed me the wrong way. One would think I’d forced him into this wedding with the way he was acting when in reality, it was the other way around.
I huffed, storming off to the bar packed with drunk Russians.
“You’re the perfect arm candy for Boss,” one of them slurred with a thick Russian accent when he noticed me. “I heard Italian girls make good sluts. The one I took to bed nearly sucked the life out of me through my dick. She has the tightest fucking pussy, too. Do you think Boss will let us take a turn when he’s done stretching that tight cunt?”
He made a fist with his hand, bobbing his head up and down to mimic the motion of the girl giving him a blow job. To top it all off, he gagged loudly, maintaining eye contact with me throughout his shenanigans.
His entourage cackled like wild hyenas, the sound hurting my ears. I came to the bar in the hope of some relief through alcohol, but it seemed like all I was going to get was trauma and headache from this interaction.
I felt an ominous presence behind me, and without having to turn, I already knew who it was. His cologne which I was starting to associate with him gave him away immediately. It clung to the air around me, warm and masculine with hints of bergamot and orange that assailed my senses.
“Chto smeshnogo?” He asked, the Russian rolling off his tongue smoothly. His voice cast a somber air over the men, and they went from loud to whimpering cowards in mere seconds. [What’s so funny?]
