CHAPTER TEN
Lev
I GOT ALINA’S number from Koka. My fingers tighten around the phone as I dial, pressing it to my ear. The line rings once. Twice. By the fourth, my jaw clenches. No answer.
A slow burn of frustration coils in my chest, twisting into something darker. She’s ignoring me. That, or she’s hiding. Either way, I don’t have the patience for this kind of bullshit.
I call Koka back, my tone clipped. “Get Peta to track her phone.” He’s the only one I trust for this kind of job—fast, precise, and discreet.
“Got it, boss. I’ll call you back,” Koka answers without hesitation. The line cuts off, and I slam my phone onto the console.
I keep driving, but there’s no destination in mind—just the hum of the engine beneath my hands and the gnawing question in my head. What the hell is she up to?
Minutes stretch, taut and thin, until my phone vibrates against my palm. I answer before the second ring.
“She’s at a charity function,” Peta reports.
The words stop me cold.
Alina, at a charity event? But before I can piece it together, Peta drops the next bomb.
“She’s not alone. Sergei is there, too.”
A sharp jolt of fury shoots through me.
The fuck she is.
This isn't a coincidence. It can’t be. Not with the man tied to the very turf war I’m trying to navigate.
Heat creeps up my spine, my grip tightening around the wheel until my knuckles turn white. There’s no hesitation—I whip the car around, tires screeching against the pavement.
I don’t know what Alina’s playing at. But she’s about to find out exactly what happens when she crosses me.
When I walk into the function, it’s all crystal chandeliers and overpriced wine. The kind of place she’d blend into if she weren’t seated with him and if she weren’t severely underdressed.
My lips twist. Except for the single pair of shoes I left her. Fat lot of good that did keeping her contained.
They’re in a corner, sipping coffee like old friends. Laughing.
My blood ignites. She’s smiling at him—at him. The thought of his hand brushing hers, of his gaze lingering on her, is enough to make my fists curl.
I move toward them, forcing myself not to run. Her laughter dies the second she sees me. Alina pales, her knuckles tightening on the coffee cup. Good. She should be scared.
I reach them, sliding my hands onto her shoulders. My grip is firm, claiming.
“You got here before me,” I declare, my voice cool, laced with steel. The lie rolls off my tongue like honey. I want him to think this is all orchestrated, that she’s with me—not him.
Sergei doesn’t bother hiding his irritation, his jaw tightening as his eyes narrow at me. But he knows better than to make a scene. Not here. Not with all these people watching.
“Alina,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “A word.”
Her hand trembles slightly as I pull her to her feet and lead her away. I don’t give her a choice. My grip on her arm ensures that. She stumbles slightly in her heels, trying to keep up with my long strides.
When we’re far enough from prying eyes, I pull her into a secluded room. My fury churns hotter as I shut the door behind us and shove a chair under the handle. She watches me, wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice is low but sharp enough to cut. “I paid a lot for you, Alina. Do you think this is a game?”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. There’s defiance in her eyes, buried under the guilt. “I need another fifty grand.”
Her words hit me like a slap even though I know about Koka’s addendum. My mouth twists into a humorless smile. “So, what was your plan? Huh? Go back to auctioning yourself off?”
Her gaze drops. The silence that follows says enough. That’s exactly what she was planning. Heat rushes to her face, and she stammers, “I—I didn’t have another choice.”
I laugh, but it’s cold, fueled by the fire burning in my veins. “You think you can just keep selling yourself? You really don’t seem to understand.” I step closer, looming over her. My voice drops to a lethal whisper. “You can’t sell what isn’t yours. I. Own. You.”
Her breath hitches as I grab her wrist, pulling her into me. The soft scent of her skin cuts through my fury, but it doesn’t cool it. No, it just sharpens the edge.
I back her toward the desk in the corner of the room, the tension crackling between us like a live wire. “Let me make it very clear for you, Alina,” I growl, my fingers tightening just enough to keep her where I want her. “You’re mine. No one else will ever touch you.”
She shivers, but it’s not fear in her eyes now. It’s something else—something darker, more dangerous. A challenge. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I don’t give her time to argue, to protest. My hands are on her, rough and possessive, gripping her waist as I yank her flush against me. A gasp escapes her lips, but I don’t let it turn into words—I capture her mouth in a searing, punishing kiss.
I move her until her back is against a desk, the wood digging into her thighs as I spread them apart, forcing her to feel just how furious I am, just how much she belongs to me. She tries to push against my chest, a feeble attempt at control, but I seize her wrists, pinning them above her head.
“You don’t get to run, Alina,” I growl against her throat, my teeth grazing her skin. “You don’t get to decide who you sell yourself to. That choice was made the moment I bought you.”
She trembles, a mix of fear and something darker curling in her wide eyes. “You think you own me?” she breathes, her voice unsteady.
My grip tightens, my lips ghosting over her ear. “I don’t think, sweetheart. I know.”
I drop her hands and reach down, unbuttoning her jeans. She glances at the door, hesitation flickering in her gaze. “Lev, don’t.” Her words are weak, barely a whisper, and even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t stop. I need her to understand. She is mine.
My fingers slip inside the denim, sliding against her heat. She’s already wet for me, but the thought that she might be wet for Sergei has my blood roaring. Possession, dark and absolute, takes hold of me.
With one rough yank, I push her jeans down, revealing black lace panties stretched taut against her skin. My grip tightens as I rip the delicate fabric apart, the sting of the band snapping against her hip and leaving a red mark. I don’t care.
My cock throbs, harder than ever. The need to claim her, to make her feel every inch of my fury, consumes me.
I shove my trousers and boxers down just enough, freeing myself. Without a word, I grab her by the waist, lifting her onto the edge of the desk. She gasps as I drag her forward, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.
Gripping her throat, I pull her to me, my breath hot against her ear. “You are mine,” I remind her, my voice a growl of raw dominance.
Then I slam into her.
Her head jerks back from the impact, a strangled moan tearing from her throat, but I don’t let her escape. My grip tightens on her neck, forcing her to look at me.
I fuck her hard, relentless, claiming every inch of her with deep, punishing thrusts. She watches me, her lips parted, her fingers digging into my waist. Each stroke is rough, each movement meant to brand her, to ensure she never forgets who she belongs to.
Tension coils tight in my gut, pleasure building sharp and fast. My hold on her throat tightens, my other hand fisting in her hair, dragging her closer as I take her with ruthless precision.
“Say it,” I demand, my voice ragged, barely controlled. “Tell me who you belong to.”
Her eyes, dark and wild, lock onto mine. Her lips part, a whisper of surrender falling from them.
“You.”
That’s all it takes for me to fuck her until I explode inside her pussy, my hand tightening so hard on her throat that I know she won’t be able to take in oxygen. Her body shudders, her pussy tightening around my cock as she comes on me.