Chapter Eleven
Dmitri Konstantinov
Two birds. One stone.
Tonight’s auction was where money found a voice and deals slid across glass rims. Everyone would leave convinced they owned the world. But beneath the polish, the room was a net, stretched tight and waiting. The moment Iker stepped through those doors, he walked straight into my trap.
Guests began arriving as the sun went down.
Some dropped in from the rooftop where their jets had landed.
Others pulled up in cars, with security surrounding them.
I had my own men folded into the edges of the building and the one across the street.
They watched from positions that no one would suspect them of being snipers.
I had built enough of these events to know they could go two ways. Tonight was not going the wrong way.
The viewing room was filled with guests. The jewelry pieces sat in their lit vitrines, drawing attention and making the price tags feel inevitable. I wasn’t looking at the pieces. My eyes were on the entrance, watching for the one person who hadn’t walked in yet.
Akim’s last update was that Inna was ready. I had sent a team to the penthouse to get her ready, to make sure she stood out and no one would miss her. She would walk through that door, and every eye would find her, the way eyes always found whatever cost the most.
I was using an outsider, and I knew what that meant. I spent my life holding Bratva rules that didn’t allow anyone from outside the circle into the middle of it. You didn’t hand them something you weren’t prepared to lose.
But Inna was just a bait, and once this was done, she would go back to her life, and I would go back to mine.
Isabella Duval caught my attention as she walked toward me. Her presence at this event told me the evening would end well.
Isabella was a French heiress. A socialite who ran a luxury fashion brand in Paris that had more reputation than revenue.
Her real passion was rare gems, and that left a paper trail if you knew where to look.
I found her through a bid she made on a piece in Europe.
I quietly tracked her transactions, and she became considerably more useful.
She came toward me wearing a smile and a dress that was doing serious work. “Mr. Konstantinov.”
My eyes moved over her briefly. The dress deserved the attention, and she had clearly made peace with that before she put it on. On a different occasion, we could have taken this to a quieter room.
“Mademoiselle Duval. Toujours attentive aux bonnes expositions, je vois.” (Miss Duval, always attentive to the right exhibitions, I see.)
She lifted one shoulder the way French women did when they were pleased. “Votre collection est… fascinante. J’ai hate de voir les pièces en personne.” (Your collection is… fascinating. I look forward to seeing the pieces in person.)
“They are.” I let a beat pass. “Et seuls certains savent vraiment apprécier ce qu’ils voient.” (And only some truly know how to appreciate what they see.)
She nodded with a smile. My eyes stayed on her lips for a moment, just long enough for her to see. She wasn’t exactly my type, but I couldn’t mind a night to highlight this moment.
“Il faut savoir reconna?tre la valeur,” she said. (One must know how to recognize value.)
I leaned in slightly. Her perfume was exotic and floral, the kind applied with intention. I appreciated that in women.
“Exactly,” I said. “And even then, few dare to take what’s theirs.”
She laughed and caught her lip between her teeth. I was about to let the moment continue, but my eyes moved.
The room went quiet. That particular drop in silence that happened when something worth looking at walked in.
Inna stepped in, and Isabella stopped existing. The entire room did. I had planned to watch Iker and track his reaction when he saw the girl he had been circling. But at that moment, all of it stayed exactly where I left it because I couldn’t move my eyes.
Inna showed up looking like trouble that took its time getting dressed.
The silver dress caught the light and held it everywhere it touched her, the straps leaving her shoulders bare.
The neckline dipped just enough to frame the necklace.
And everything beneath it became worth looking at.
The dress knew her body as if it had made certain arrangements with her before the evening started.
Her hips shifted as she walked in, shoulders set, carrying an ease that didn’t come from confidence.
It came from not needing anyone’s permission.
Where was she keeping all that?
I took my time, letting my eyes move up and down the way you read a book you didn’t expect to find interesting. Every inch of her body was a problem I hadn’t budgeted for, and I was already calculating the cost.
When my eyes finally returned to her face, a dark feeling washed over me.
Other men were drinking her in as well, and I was the one who put her in that dress.
I made her walk here and handed them the view.
The thought sat badly. It felt worse than it should have been for a man who brought her here as bait and nothing more.
The problem was that she looked like mine. The part of me that understood she was just a tool was losing to the part that wanted every man in the room to know it too.
I stepped forward, knowing fucking well that this was trouble. But I stopped listening to myself.
Inna stopped walking the moment she saw me moving toward her. Akim gave her instructions before she came here. And I could tell she was confused, trying to remember which one applied to this.
I was breaking my own rules, and I knew it with every step I took. My body had already made its position clear. My cock pressed against the fabric of my trousers, visible to anyone paying attention. I stopped in front of her.
She blinked up at me.
“Are you a virgin?” It came out before I had any involvement in the decision. The question had no place in this evening’s event, no business coming out of my mouth in the middle of a room full of people.
Her brows pulled together. “What?”
“Yes or no.”
She gulped, her eyes moving around the room, color rising in her cheeks in a way she had absolutely no control over. I reached up and caught her chin. I turned her face back to mine, keeping those brown eyes exactly where I wanted them.
“It’s a question, Inna.”
“Is that why I’m here?” she asked. “Why did everyone look at me when I walked in? Is this not about the necklace?”
My jaw ticked, and a smirk pulled at my mouth. She genuinely had no idea how she looked standing there.
“I want to fuck you tonight,” I said.
Her confusion turned to alertness, her body shifting.
I leaned close to her ear, and the first thing that reached me was lavender. People wore that kind of perfume to convince themselves they slept soundly. Underneath it, sandalwood sat against her skin. It sat waiting for someone to get close enough to notice.
The combination moved into my lungs and settled there. It wasn’t complicated. Lavender reached for calm, and sandalwood pulled in the opposite direction. Together, they did something to me that had nothing to do with calm, narrowing the room until everything around us became background noise.
My body made its position clear before my mind finished forming an option. The patience thinned. My body had decided below the level of thought.
I stayed close and let it settle.
Control was never the absence of temptation. It was knowing exactly what tempted you and choosing your moment.
“I hate temptation,” I said, close enough that no one else would catch it. “And you have been nothing but temptation, Inna. Is there something I should know before we agree on tonight?”
She moved to step back, and my hand found her waist before she got anywhere, pulling her against me.
“People are watching,” she said through her teeth.
“Let them.” I kept my eyes on hers. “That’s the point.”
“Why am I here?”
My other hand moved until my fingers brushed her lower lip. She flinched, and a gasp escaped her lips.
Her eyebrows shot upwards. “Wait…” she stilled. “Is that…are you turned on?”
My smirk deepened. She noticed, and she had a mouth on her, which I was finding difficult to consider a problem.
“I will fuck you tonight, Inna. But first.” I straightened and adjusted my jacket. “Let’s get this done.”