24. Brooke
My stomach churns as I follow Enya through the mansion toward the balcony.
I’m nervous, and my pulse pounds rapidly in my neck. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve never been filled with so much murderous rage before. And if Lev bloody Zarkov is good at one thing, it’s bringing out the darkness in me.
Enya opens two large double doors, and I step out onto a vast balcony with sweeping views of the estate below and an expansive sky bathed in the colors of twilight above us.
Lev is at the railing overlooking the sparkling pool below. His broad back is to us, but when I step onto the balcony, he turns around and, dear mother of God, there must be something wrong with me because Lev Zarkov in a formal suit is more than my ovaries can stand.
I was ready to hate him. To launch into a tirade about how many laws he’s breaking, but all of that stops the moment our eyes collide, and my heart skips that extra beat it does whenever he is near. His jaw tightens, and one of his brows lifts as if he’s slightly taken back. But then it drops just as quickly, and his expressionless look returns.
He gives me a polite nod. “Miss Masters.”
“Monster,” I say as I lift my chin.
His lips tilt with amusement, and it annoys me that he’s so relaxed and unfazed by everything.
“Will that be all, Mr. Zarkov?” Enya asks behind me.
“Yes, thank you, Enya.”
He dismisses her with a warmth in his tone that is a stark contrast to the cold, uncompassionate piranha that he is.
Enya leaves and closes the door behind her while Lev pours me a glass of champagne, and I think of a million ways to make his life hell for the rest of the night.
“I thought we were going to some fancy birthday party?” I say, refusing to be seduced by the romantic setting. The sun is just a glint of gold on the horizon, and the first stars are out.
“We are, but before we step out in public, I thought it would be a good idea to discuss what my expectations of you throughout the evening are.”
“Okay, shoot. Give me your list of dos and don’ts. I’m not very experienced at this whole captivity thing, so you might have to spell it out for me.”
“Has anyone ever told you what a brat you are?”
“No one’s given me a reason to be one… until you came along.”
He smiles. “Of course, but first, let’s drink to new friends.”
He hands me a flute of champagne.
But I put it down, and I cross my arms. “What are you doing, Lev?”
“What do you mean?”
I gesture around us. “This. The champagne. The views. The stars. It’s almost like you’re trying to…”
Lev’s eyes flash in the twilight. “Trying to what, Miss Masters, seduce you?”
The word drips from his tongue like honey, and I feel it all the way from my head down to my toes. I pick up the glass and take a small mouthful of champagne to prove to him that I am completely unaffected by any of this. Especially by any attempts to turn me into putty in his hands.
He cocks one perfect eyebrow in my direction. “Haven’t I already done that?”
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” I sigh, hating him. “Let’s get this over and done with. What are your expectations of tonight?”
“This dinner is filled with a great deal of important people. Some are friends, some are foes.”
“And?”
“You’re to stay by my side and look happy to be there.”
“What else?”
“Try not to escape.”
“That’s it?”
His gaze narrows. “Is there something else you would have me demand of you?” His beautiful lips twitch. “Because I’m open to suggestions.”
Despite loathing him, the look on his face ignites a thousand fires inside me, and as I squirm beneath the heat of his gaze, I begin to wonder what is wrong with me. I hate this man. Yet my body remembers all too well the immeasurable pleasure he is capable of giving, and right now, it chooses to react to the sheer closeness of him, and the electricity zapping in the air around us, and that goddamn scent of his. My pulse rages in my neck, and my heart pounds like a wild animal against my rib cage as an undeniable throb takes up between my thighs.
I don’t know what makes me angrier. My desire for him. Or his audacity for thinking he could actually seduce me after everything he’s done.
“You need to be convincing, zayka. People need to believe you want to be there.”
“Which means?”
“You can’t flinch when I touch you. Can’t pull away when I kiss you—”
“Wait, you didn’t say anything about kissing.”
“You’re my plus one. That means in public we will be acting like two people who like each other. I will touch you. Kiss you.”
Fuck.
“If you need a reminder—”
“No,” I snap. “I think I can handle it without enduring a rehearsal.”
Again, that smile. As if he is enjoying this. “There is a lot at stake, and I don’t mean just for me. You have Wilson to think about.”
“As if I could forget.”
“That reminds me.” He reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out my phone, and hands it to me.
I can’t hide my surprise. “You’re seriously giving me my phone back?”
“For this to work, there needs to be a certain element of trust. You need to trust that I will kill Wilson if you try to alert anyone about our current agreement, and I trust that you understand that.”
A new wave of resentment hits my last nerve, and I snatch my phone away.
I have eleven unread text messages. Four from Elsa. Three from Henry. And two each from Chloe and Samantha. Each one asking me how the move has gone. None of them sounding worried. But why would they? As far as they’re concerned, nothing has changed. I’m probably busy settling in and getting ready for my new job.
I fire off messages to all of them, assuring them I am settling in. I even slap on a fake smile and take a selfie to send so they can see that I’m okay.
I might not be. But I don’t want to worry them with that fact.
And I certainly don’t want to get them caught in the middle of all of this.
When I look up, Lev is watching me.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“A selfie?”
“It’s for proof of life, or whatever you criminals call it.”
“This isn’t a ransom demand,” he says.
I shrug. “Potato, potahto.”
The doors leading out to the balcony open, and a very handsome man with blond hair and very bright blue eyes walks out. He’s wearing a suit, and like Lev, he wears no tie, so I can see the tip of the same Zarkov tattoo on his chest.
“Feliks,” Lev says by way of welcome.
“Cousin,” he says, greeting Lev with a hug.
The man turns to me and gives me a smile that I imagine has dropped a lot of panties. He’s gorgeous. There is obviously a good-looking gene running through this gene pool of gangsters.
“At last, we meet. I’m Feliks,” he says, making a show of taking my hand and dragging it to his lips. “I’ve heard so much about you, and you’re as beautiful as I imagined you would be.”
Okay, so he’s a charmer.
I feel Lev bristle beside me, and Feliks grins wickedly, making me realize his flirting with me is solely to irritate his cousin.
Hmm… I think I like this guy.
I play into his charm and give him a big, flirty smile, hoping it will irritate Lev further. “Thank you.”
Feliks grins effortlessly. “I’m the favorite cousin. He probably hasn’t mentioned me on account he’s afraid you’ll fall in love with me at first sight.” He winks, then whispers dramatically, “It’s hell to be so handsome.”
I can’t help myself—I giggle, which seems to irritate Lev even more.
I smile. Tonight might actually be bearable.
“Shall we go?” Lev bites.
As we leave the balcony and walk through the mansion, Lev places his hand at the small of my back, and it’s strangely comforting as I walk toward the unknown. His touch is warm and strong and reassuring.
Almost protective.