Chapter 22
Zoya
TWO DAYS LATER
I finish tying the straps of my gold heels and walk to the full length mirror to do a little twirl.
Well.
This dress pushes every boundary I have.
The gold fabric dips deep in the front and the side slit cuts high up my thigh, putting every single curve on display.
I reach back and tug at the hem in a desperate bid for more coverage, but nothing happens.
I try pulling the slit closed only for it to fall wide open again, and adjusting the neckline just makes it slip even lower.
I never wanted to attend this event. Alexei dragged me here against my will, so if I have to step into his world, his world has to deal with me showing up like this.
I want him to sweat and regret every decision that made him bring me out tonight, and I want him to realize deep in his chest that forcing me into his life has consequences.
At the sound of the door, I drop my hands and straighten my spine. I put on a brave front to show I am comfortable and hold zero regrets about this outfit. Alexei steps inside and stops dead in his tracks the second he looks at me. “What are you wearing?”
“What?” I look down at myself. “Don’t you like it? It’s a dress.”
“Where’s the rest of it.”
“This is how it came.”
He stares hard at me. “I know for a fact that’s not how it’s supposed to look.
” His eyes drag over the low neckline, the high slit, the hem doing the bare minimum to cover me, and snap right back up to my face.
“Where is the bottom half? Where is the top?” He drags a heavy hand down his face.
“Fucking hell, Zoya. What do you want me to do with this?
I can't go around killing my own associates over a glimpse of your tits or your ass. I'll have no men left.”
"That's on you," I say, keeping my tone light as I pick up my clutch. "If you want to lose business partners over a dress, that's your business."
He stares at me in silence, his jaw flexing while he runs the math in his head.
"That isn't a dress," he groans.
“It’s a fucking handkerchief with delusions of grandeur.
” He steps closer, hooking his fingers into the neckline to tug at the flimsy straps with pure spite.
"One wrong move and your tits are joining the party.
I gave you a dozen fun ways to kill me, Vedma.
Why the fuck are you picking the slowest, most painful one? "
I force a sweet smile. “Watching you suffer is my new favorite thing to do. And yes, I’m keeping this on. You asked to marry me? Congratulations, pakhan. This is your life now. Figure out how to live with it.”
I spin around to leave. His hand shoots out and locks tight around my wrist.
“Change.”
I take my time turning back to face him, arching one eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
He leans forward, his voice dropping into a heavy threat. “You heard me. Change. Right now.”
I step straight forward, pressing my body flush against his front. I drag my hand up his chest, feeling his muscles lock tight under my palm, and reach his jaw to tilt his face down to mine.
"Make me," I whisper, keeping my mouth just a breath away from his. "Or is the ruthless pakhan terrified another man might look at his property? You can't handle the competition, Alexei?"
A dark, starving look takes over his expression.
His hands grip my waist hard before sliding down to flip the hem of the dress up in one rough motion. Both his palms squeeze my bare ass, his fingers digging deep into my skin to claim me. I bite the inside of my cheek to trap the gasp caught in my throat.
“If we weren't running late,” he growls against my ear, “and if I hadn’t made that stupid fucking promise, I’d rip this pathetic excuse for a dress off you and fuck that attitude out of your system.
He squeezes my ass hard enough to leave a mark.
“Keep pushing me, Zoya. Your mouth gets bolder every damn day. One of these days I'm going to stop playing the gentleman.”
I grab his wrists and peel his hands off my ass, smoothing the dress back into place to restore my perfect facade.
"Gentleman?" I let a short breath of laughter slip out. "We both know that ended the second you shoved my hands around your throat and begged me to kill you."
I pick up my clutch and head for the door, tossing one last look over my shoulder. "I'll be downstairs. Try to keep up, big guy. And do try not to have a stroke when people look at me. It would just be embarrassing."
The elevator opens into the lobby. As soon as we step outside, the freezing Moscow temperature drops over me. The cold slices straight through my flimsy dress and bites deep into my exposed skin.
“Someone’s cold,” Alexei points out, his tone thick with amusement.
“I’m not,” I shoot back. “I’m actually sweating. Must be all the hot air you’re breathing out.”
He glances down at me, but I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead and hold my jaw tight so my teeth stop clicking together while we wait for the car to pull up.
He keeps his eyes straight ahead and lowers his voice. “I still hate how fucking skimpy that dress is.” He pauses for a second. “But as much as I want to burn that scrap of fabric, you look incredible tonight.”
The compliment catches me off guard and sends a rush of heat straight to my cheeks before I can stop it. I open my mouth to fire back a sharp response, but my mind goes blank.
Our ride pulls up to the sidewalk. Alexei steps forward, pulling the door open, and I slide inside. Right as I move, his broad hand connects with my ass in a loud, stinging smack. I let out a sharp yelp and scramble across the backseat to put distance between us.
He gets in after me wearing a smug smirk.
I shove myself all the way to the opposite door and cross my arms over my chest, staring straight out the window. “Put your hands on me again and I promise I won't hesitate the next time you ask me to end your life.” A deep chuckle vibrates from his side of the dark car, showing zero concern.
The rest of the drive passes in a thick silence until we step inside the venue.
The club makes you forget the rest of Moscow even exists. Pulsing gold lights swallow the high ceilings, and the dark marble floors mirror a sea of rich bodies moving to a heavy bass. Everything in the building smells like money, sex, and terrible choices.
Alexei keeps his broad palm pressed tight against the small of my back while we navigate the crowd, letting his warm fingers sink into my bare skin.
He navigates us past the mass of grinding bodies and straight toward the velvet rope at the back, making sure every eye in the club tracks my movements.
The bouncer unhooks the rope the moment he makes eye contact with Alexei.
The VIP area is separated by thick glass and deep leather booths, holding a private bar and men in sharp suits paired with quiet women.
Alexei moves through the space demanding every ounce of attention in the room.
He introduces me to a few people, and I force a soft smile while nodding at the right moments to play the part of the silent accessory.
After the third introduction, he leans down to brush his lips against my ear.
“Bohdan will walk you to the bar to get whatever you want.” He lowers his voice. “Stay away from alcohol and get a mocktail or water.” I narrow my eyes at him.
He holds my stare, his expression turning cold. “I mean it, Zoya.” Bohdan steps up to hover right beside me. I look at the rigid set of Alexei’s jaw and realize this is a terrible time to start an argument in front of his men.
“Fine,” I tell him, flashing a wide smile full of violent promises. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends, daddy.”
I spin around and head for the private bar, refusing to look back even as Alexei’s eyes burn a path straight down to my skin. As soon as we move out of his line of sight, Bohdan rests his weight against the bar and stares me down.
“Relax,” he tells me, keeping his words trapped under the loud beat. “Get to know the guy. He isn’t the villain in this story, Zoya. Trust me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Trust you? I don’t even know you.” Bohdan chuckles and flags the bartender for two waters. “Fair enough. But I’ve known Alexei a long time. He loves you. He means it.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Right. The man who kidnapped me and keeps threatening to fuck the attitude out of me is a total romantic.” Bohdan scans the area, making sure no one is listening, before leaning in to drop his voice.
“Look, this is between us, yeah? Keep your mouth shut about this.” He lets a second pass before going on.
“Before he brought you here, Alexei was a full-blown playboy. He had a new woman every night and never touched the same one twice. Then he saw one picture of you and his whole world flipped. He dropped all of them cold and told us he was finished playing around. The whole crew thought he had gone crazy, but he was in love. He has been entirely obsessed with you ever since.”
I stare at him, struggling to make sense of the information.
Bohdan gives a small shrug and pushes a water glass into my hand. "Just give him a chance. He is nowhere near perfect, but for you? He is different."
I take the glass and squeeze it tight. Part of me wants to ignore the confession, but another part of my chest tightens with doubt. I open my mouth to drop a sarcastic remark and kill the tension, but then my eyes track across the room and land on her.
She is tall with dark hair, commanding attention with every step she takes. Her floor-length gown drips with money and status, proving she belongs in this world. She walks on a direct path straight toward Alexei.
I watch her close the distance and place her hand flat against his arm. She leans in to laugh at something he says, tilting her body into his space to show the room they share a history. I take a long drink of my water and force myself to stay calm.