Chapter 10 —Demyon #2
She let out a soft chuckle. “I see what’s happening here.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “You’re jealous.”
My brows furrowed as I faced her. “Jealous?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I mean, a man as powerful as you must be used to always being the center of attention. Now that someone else—a handsome, sexy, young man—is the one in the spotlight, you don’t like it.”
Her assumption was rather ridiculous. However, I couldn’t help but feel some type of way after she listed the man’s physical qualities in an endearing tone.
“You couldn’t have been farther from the truth.” I lifted my glass to my lips. “Men like me aren’t entertainers. We’re the ones being entertained.” I shot her a quick look.
She rolled her eyes. “With this attitude, no wonder you’re lonely.”
I was about to respond to her when a familiar face approached me and engaged me in a conversation I wasn’t ready for.
My plus-one used that opportunity to excuse herself before I could stop her. Each time I tried to end the conversation, this newcomer, an elderly woman, would bring up something else.
She spoke to me as if we were buddies, and although her face looked familiar, I couldn’t place where I knew her from. I would’ve dismissed her from the start if she weren’t old enough to be my mother.
Out of respect, I stayed, listening to her while keeping an eye on my plus-one, who was standing alone by the champagne tower. I noticed the looks she drew and the way heads turned toward her. Within seconds, she captured the attention of almost thirty percent of the men in the room.
At this point, I knew it was only a matter of time before one of those dogs walked up to her.
“She’s pretty,” the elderly woman’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Is she your woman?” she asked in Russian.
A faint grin appeared on my lips. “No.”
“But you would like for her to be.”
I wasn’t sure whether that was a question or a statement.
“It’s complicated.”
“Not from where I’m standing.”
“What do you mean?”
She beamed at me. “I think you know.”
I looked in her direction, but this time, she wasn’t alone anymore. She had a companion, the young man who entertained us a few minutes ago. To make matters worse, she was smiling as he talked to her with a hand in his pocket.
My blood boiled, and my fingers clenched into fists at my sides.
The elderly woman followed my gaze and said softly, “The sooner you accept the truth, the better for both of you.”
I didn’t respond, didn’t take my eyes off the annoying scene unfolding in front of me either.
“Do right by her and thank me later.” She tapped my shoulder and walked away.
Without a moment of hesitation, I headed toward them, a scowl perched on my face.
“My God, you have such a beautiful voice,” she said to him, chuckling as if she were having a good time.
“Clearly, not as beautiful as you are,” he answered with a seductive look, attempting to woo her with his charms.
She lowered her head, tucking the strands of hair that framed her face behind her ear.
Flames of anger shot through me, and every muscle in my body tensed. I quickened my pace, refusing to slow down until I joined them. “What’s going on here?” I asked, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist.
At first, I thought she was going to try to yank my hand off, embarrassing me in front of this man.
But she didn’t.
“The lady and I were just talking,” he answered in accented English, a hint of arrogance lacing his tone.
“He’s the young man who sang a few minutes ago,” she chipped in, grinning at him.
That little gesture only fueled my rage.
“I’m aware,” I answered.
It was awkwardly silent between us for the next four seconds or so. Until he broke it.
“Where are my manners?” He extended a hand. “Nickolas Petrov.”
“Demyon,” I said without taking his hand. “Demyon Tarasov.”
His eyes drained of color as he realized who he was talking to. He stared at me as if he couldn't breathe, as if an alarm had just gone off in his head. “Mr—Mr. Tarasov,” he stuttered, withdrawing his hand as though he was suddenly unworthy to shake it. “I didn’t know that she was with you.”
My silence spoke volumes, and my unwavering gaze was pinned on him.
“I’ll take my leave now.” He walked away and didn’t even look back.
“What the hell was that about?” she snapped, glaring at me. “He was just being friendly, and you scared him away.”
“He was flirting with you.”
She pushed her head back, disbelief coloring her eyes. “So what? Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit, and now you suddenly care?”
She was creating a scene, drawing unwanted attention, and now people were looking at us.
“Keep your voice down,” I said quietly.
“Why?” She did the exact opposite of what I said. “Am I embarrassing you? Am I ruining your evening?”
All eyes were on us now, and some of the guests were already whispering amongst themselves.
“You like being the center of attention, don’t you?” she continued, then gestured at the onlookers. “Well, there you have it; you’re in the spotlight.”
My face twisted into a frown. “That’s it. You’re done.” I grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the hall despite her protests.
I didn’t stop until we were outside the building, under the cold, distant stars. That’s when I let go of her hand. “What is wrong with you?” I snapped, my voice rising a bit higher than usual.
She stared at me, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. It was almost as if she did it on purpose to get a reaction from me, and now she was pleased with a job well done.
“All you had to do was be quiet and behave like an adult, but that’s clearly impossible for you to do.”
“Oh, please, spare me the lecture.” She rolled her eyes. “If you considered me an adult, you wouldn’t be controlling me like a child.” The words spilled out in a rush. “You wouldn’t cage me or have me bound to you alone!”
Silence.
Beneath the anger in her tone was a hint of pain and frustration, one I couldn’t ignore this time.
“If you’re gonna kill me, then just get it over with already,” she added, leaning in to close the distance between us. “But if you’re gonna keep me around you, be assured that I will not be controlled because I am not your pet.”
Her courage and the fire in her eyes melted my stone-cold heart in a strange way. For the first time in a long time, I was speechless—completely speechless.
Without another word, she turned and began walking toward the gate, her heels clicking rapidly on the pavement.
“Where’re you going?”
“Anywhere that’s away from you!”
I let out a soft sigh, fingers rubbing my eyes as I wondered what mess I’d gotten myself into. This young lady was different: headstrong, stubborn, and unpredictable.
I couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t tame her either—and that was one of the many qualities I liked about her.
She was her own woman; she did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how the fuck she wanted. At this point, it was hard to remember that scared version of her from the warehouse. They were two completely different people.
I watched her walk toward the gate as if she knew where she was going. And just like that, a small smile crept onto my face.