Chapter 9
Dmitri
Georgi shut the office doors behind her with her boot, blocking out the noise of workers and Cori’s bullshit chatter. She didn’t bother sitting. She never did when it was bad.
And the look on her face? Yeah, it was bad.
“Talk,” I said, leaning back against the desk. My arms folded, but the tension in them said I was ready to break something in half.
Georgi didn’t waste a second. “I found the man who ran Natasha off the road.”
My jaw locked. “Alive?”
“Not anymore.”
I exhaled slowly. “You got what you needed first?”
“Of course I did.” A faint, feral smile cut across her face. “He screamed a lot. Eventually he stopped lying.”
Good. Georgi tugged a small notebook from her jacket and tossed it onto the desk near me. Blood had dried along the edges.
“He confessed he was working under orders. The warden, Dmitri.”
Ice slid through my bloodstream. Bitch!
“What orders?”
“To follow Natasha. Harass her. Damage her apartment. Make her scared. And—” Georgi paused, looking at me with a gravity that tensed the room, “—when the time was right, kill her.”
Everything inside me went still. Not anger. Not shock. Something colder.
“Maria,” I said flatly.
“She’s the one,” Georgi confirmed. “I’ve been tracking her for days. The problem is—she’s gone. No digital trail. No bank movements. No cameras. She cleaned her shit up fast.”
Maria always was meticulous. And obsessive.
It’s why I chose her. She could meet me where I was at mentally.
A dark head space and ready to taint whomever fucked with me.
She’d pretended to be somebody else for me, while knowing I didn’t want her.
I’d treated her like she was the woman that I wanted.
How had I truly guessed this shit would end? I hadn’t even thought that far.
Georgi stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I broke into her house.”
“Good.”
“There’s more.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small stack of glossy photos. “Found these hidden in her bedroom.”
She placed them on the desk. My stomach didn’t drop. My pulse didn’t spike. But something twisted inside me. The photos were of me and Maria. Fucking. Her riding me with her head thrown back. My hands wrapped around her neck. My hands pinning her down. Her sucking my dick.
Private moments. Intimate ones. Recorded for her sick fucking pleasure. That wasn’t part of the plan for obvious reasons. And then—the last picture. A photo of Natasha, but tape covered her face. On top of it? Maria’s face, cut out and placed there instead.
Georgi’s tone dropped, a rare dose of sympathy threading through it. “She’s obsessed with you, Daddy. Madly. Completely unhinged.”
I stared at the photo for a long, dangerous moment.
Georgi continued, “She thinks Natasha stole you from her. Everything she set in motion? It was about getting rid of Natasha so she could have you.”
A slow, poisonous fire lit under my skin.
“She put a hit on Natasha for jealousy.” She swallowed. “For obsession,” Georgi corrected. “And the men she hired were disposable. The one I caught was instructed to stake out your apartment too. Just in case.”
My vision narrowed to a pinpoint. “You killed him slowly?” I asked.
Georgi nodded. “Very.”
Good. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Maria did this. Maria touched Natasha’s life. Maria tried to take what’s mine.
“Find her,” I said deadly calm. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care what you have to tear apart. Find her.”
Georgi smirked. “Already on it.”
But I wasn’t done. “When you do—bring her to me alive.”
Georgi raised a brow. “Alive?”
“Yes.” I looked down at the last photo again, the tape over Natasha’s face. My teeth ground so hard my jaw ached. “I want her to see exactly what happens when someone touches what belongs to me.”
Georgi nodded once—sharp and certain. “Consider it done.” She turned to leave.
But before she reached the door, I said one more thing.
“And Georgi?”
She paused, glancing back.
“Make sure she’s terrified before she ever gets to me.”
A slow, wicked grin spread across her face.
“With pleasure.” Georgi held the door open, and I exited it to see Natasha looking at me with wonder.
When Georgi followed me out, she glared at her like she’d done something wrong.
“What’s gotten into Mami?” Georgi mumbled to me.
I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.
Georgi came out of the office behind me, moving like she owned the space—which, in her way, she did. Her eyes immediately landed on Natasha.
“Mami,” she purred, stepping closer to her. “You good? Cori isn’t bothering you, is he?”
I watched Natasha blink, stiffen, trying to play it cool. Then she nodded. Georgi didn’t miss a beat.
“Good,” she said, throwing a look at Cori that could have frozen him in place. “Because if he’s running that mouth too much, I’ll smack him for you.”
Cori, of course, scoffed. “Please. You can’t even reach my face in those heels.”
“Oh, baby, I can reach anything I want,” Georgi shot back, and I felt the faint stir of amusement run through Cori. That grin said he liked the challenge.
The front door opened, and Cori’s fiancée stepped in, sharp and impatient. She tapped her phone like it owed her something. “There you are. I’ve been sitting in the car for twenty minutes. You said you were coming right out.”
Cori’s flinch was subtle, but I saw it. “Yeah, I got delayed,” he muttered.
Georgi’s smirk turned wicked. “He needs a real woman who doesn’t let him walk all over her. Then maybe he’d be on time.”
Cori’s raised brow told me he was enjoying the attention more than he should. “You volunteering?”
“Oh, I’m always available for discipline,” Georgi said with a slow, deliberate confidence.
I noticed the fiancée’s eyes narrow, the tension in her shoulders. Georgi leaned into Cori, dangerous and playful. My jaw tightened. There was a line, and Georgi didn’t just walk it—she danced across it. The last thing that I needed was two bitches fighting in my house.
Finally, she turned her attention back to Natasha, and I followed her gaze. Georgi’s smirk never faded. “If he gives you any trouble, Mami, you tell me. I don’t mind keeping him in line.”
I felt every muscle in my body tighten. Mine. My chest tightened, my fists curled. Everyone in the room could sense the heat radiating off me, but I didn’t speak. Not yet. Cori had better stayed in his place.
I calculated. Cori wasn’t oblivious, but he wasn’t dangerous—not to Natasha. Georgi was a wild card, yes, but loyal. Too loyal to me. Too loyal to Natasha.
I stayed where I was, silent, watching, ensuring everyone knew—if anyone stepped out of line, they’d regret it. And I made a mental note. Georgi’s little smirk, her lean into Cori—it’d be fun to see how long she could keep it up before someone learned exactly why she was untouchable.
But first, Natasha. Always Natasha.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Cori, let’s go.” Cori’s fiancée said. I couldn’t remember her name. Taffy, Candy, Coffee... something food related.
“Yeah, Cori.” Georgi smiled. “Be a good boy…”
Cori and his woman walked toward the exit, but Cori kept looking back at Georgi. I didn’t miss how he sized her up. I leaned against the wall in the living room, watching the exchange with a slow, dark smile.
“Daddy, I’m going to leave to go handle some things. Have a good night.” Georgi smiled at me.
Before I could speak, Natasha stepped closer to Georgi, eyes sharp, voice low and deliberate. “That’s disrespectful,” she said. “You will not call him Daddy. He’s not yours to name. He’s mine.”
My chest tightened, and I couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at my lips. Mine. The word rolled off her tongue like a weapon I’d never tire of. Territorial, calm, firm. Respectful in the way that mattered most.
Georgi blinked, smirk twitching, clearly used to this nickname. “Mami, you wound me. It’s just a nickname.”
Natasha didn’t flinch. “Very serious,” she said, and I felt it—the energy between them, the clarity, the boundaries. She was making it clear: I was hers.
And I loved it.
I loved the way she owned me with her words, how she didn’t hesitate, how she drew the line without raising her voice. The way her eyes flicked to me when she said it, soft but unyielding. It made my pulse tighten, made my blood hum in that dark, possessive way only she could trigger.
Georgi saluted understanding. “Yes, Ma’am. Noted. Consider the problem solved.”
I let out a low, approving hum. Watching her handle it—my woman, standing tall, calling me hers—sent a thrill through me. That fire in her, that balance of respect and dominance, made me want her all over again. And everyone could see it.
Mine. And only mine.
“Boss, I’ll talk to you later.” Georgi nodded to me. “Same for you, future wifey.” She winked at Natasha, showing her that there was no harm from their conversation.
Natasha turned toward me, and I could tell that she was trying to read my expression.
I smiled and nodded at her. “Well done princess. Anything else you wanna say?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve said what I needed to.”
“Good.” I walked over to her and gripped a handful of her hair, pulling her head back slowly. “How are you feeling?” I asked while nibbling over her neck.
Natasha swallowed. “I’m okay. Why?”
“Because I thought I should know how you feel before I bend you over the couch and fuck you.”
Natasha closed her eyes, melting into me.
“Strip, princess.”
“What if somebody sees?” she asked.
Her question was soft, breathy, unsure and only made me harder. What if somebody sees? My woman. My princess. My problem to handle.
“You let me worry about that,” I murmured, shutting the door with a slow, deliberate click that told her exactly what was coming. I pulled my belt free in one smooth motion, the leather whispering through the loops. Her eyes dropped to it, pupils blown wide, lips parting on a shaky breath.
Perfect.
“Any more questions?” I asked, letting the belt hang from my fist—heavy, suggestive, full of promise.