𝚮𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 | 18+

37 || RED BOTTOM HEELS

𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕚 – 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕕
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN | RED BOTTOM HEELS
𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪

The man curled his lip back, staring at Storm in disgust as if there was no viler human being than him. "So this is where the great Storm hides."

Storm's attention darted away from Sophia when an irritatingly familiar face approached him, causing Storm to possessively take Sophia's right tit in his large hand, eliciting a sweet gasp from her lips. "How's Vlad?"

Sophia's eyes found the man before her and she couldn't help but frown. It was Dima Morozov.

"Why don't you ask him yourself, Osipova?"

Storm scrutinised him. "What do you want, Dima?"

"So first you fuck my girl and then replace her?"

Sophia's hand itched closer to Storm's thigh where she felt her dagger rest.

"So what if I did? What's it to you?" It was all a game to Storm, just as it was to Sophia. She knew all the people in the room were pawns in the chess game he kept at home. And she was his imprisoned queen.

The elder man's gaze lowered as he shamelessly leered at Sophia as Storm continued laying kisses on her neck, peppering it with marks. "Aren't you going to introduce me to Kate's replacement?"

Replacement. She didn't like that. She didn't like that one bit.

"Remove your eyes before I do it for you."

Dima's eyes connected with Storm's. "What's so special about this one that I can't look?"

"She's not a prostitute."

"She looks like any other girl to me."

Had it not been for Storm's stern eyes, Sophia would've drawn into herself and wallowed in self-consciousness. Confidence, his eyes said.

"She's not for sale."

"Everyone has a price. So how much? If she's good, I'll let the matter with Kate slide."

Would he do it? Would he sell her out? Force her to do something she didn't want to? Sophia suddenly wanted to cry. She didn't want to, after all.

Storm pulled Sophia closer. "I said she's not for sale. Is that so hard to fucking grasp?"

It was by the look of his furrowed eyebrows.

Sophia leaned back against Storm in relief. He wouldn't sell her out. He kept his promise. "You think my brand is a fucking joke?"

Storm knew he'd heard the whispers. They'd all seen the brand burned on Sophia's thigh. They all knew what it meant.

Sophia was his. Even beyond death, she was his. His to hurt, his to feed, his to fuck. She was his.

The man retreated. "My father will hear of this."

"I'm sure Vera would like to hear all about Kate too."

Dima froze at the mention of his wife. "You wouldn't."

Cocking his head to the side, Storm grinned, his sinister eyes meeting Dima's. "I would. And I would do even worse than that. If I were you, I'd go home just about now and keep my wife real close."

Before Dima could try and kill Storm, he was dragged out of the room by Storm's men. He screamed and shouted profanities at Storm as if he was the heir to the Bratva and not Storm.

Despite respecting Vladimir greatly, Storm despised Dima. He was too arrogant, too simple-minded and so easily provoked. It would be easier to kill the annoying bug rather than deal with him.