Chapter 15 #2
I whip my head around to find Matvei standing at the window looking down at the street.
He doesn’t move, but every inch of him radiates tension, from his shoulders to the white-knuckled fists at his sides.
Glancing at Evgeny gives me no encouragement, and I approach with caution.
I have no idea how to deal with a dangerous mob boss when he’s in killer mode.
“Look, we both know he’s an asshole. Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted him to be jealous that I chose you over him. I can see exactly who he is now, and there’s no way I would ever find him attractive again, much less go back to him. You don’t have to do anything, not on my account.”
After the words leave my mouth, I realize that’s what I was afraid of—that Matvei might pursue Samson on my behalf. I don’t want that kind of blood on my hands. Samson is a grandiose jerk, but I don’t want him to die because of me.
It takes Matvei another minute before he replies, and I can hear the strain in his voice as he does his best to control himself. The venom dripping from his words, the anger I know is there, is frightening.
“I’m not going to go after him now. I’m saving my energy for something far more complex. Something he won’t see coming.”
I’m unsure what to make of the enigmatic statement, but I know it’s taking a lot of restraint for Matvei not to take action immediately. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure why. Is he really that angry about the way Samson treated me, unceremoniously dumping me for someone else? I don’t buy it.
Matvei turns without warning and grasps my shoulders so hard, I wince. “Watch out for him, Sonya. I want you to promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.”
I’m not sure why I’m promising. What can Samson do to me now? He’s already turned me out and married someone else.
I suddenly wonder what the hell I’m still doing keeping company with one of the most powerful mob bosses in the city. Sure, he promised he would protect me and he’s keeping his word. But that doesn’t need to involve seeing him every day and having bouts of wild sex.
Needing some space, I excuse myself, grab my things, and head out of my apartment. Evgeny follows, but I ignore him. I’m at my favorite coffee shop working when someone sits down at my table.
“I’m sorry, I’m not looking for—" I stop mid-sentence when I realize Samson is sitting across from me.
My eyes dart outside the window to where Evgeny is leaning back against the car. I can’t see his face, but it looks like his eyes are closed as he tilts his head back to take in the autumn sunshine.
“If you’re wondering, he can’t see me from this line of sight.” Samson grins.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss. I wish Evgeny could hear me through the window.
“Did you like the flowers?” Samson ignores my question, as always. Why did I ever write that off as harmless?
“Yeah, I got your flowers,” I say coldly. “They’re in the trash. I don’t want flowers from you, Samson. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
The smallest flash of anger lights in his eyes, but it’s replaced with his charming smile as quickly as it arrived. “Come on, Sonya. What you did worked. I noticed you. I noticed you big time. Where the hell were you hiding that dress?”
“What worked?” I blink at him, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.
“Crashing my wedding to get me back, making me jealous. Don’t feel bad—it was a good strategy.”
“I don’t feel bad,” I snap. “I wasn’t there to try and win you back, and I sure as hell don’t miss you. I don’t miss the lies, I don’t miss the narcissism, and I sure as fuck don’t miss the way you always put me down.”
“I never touched you.” Samson says it as if the fact that he wasn’t physically abusive makes him entirely innocent.
“No, you were just an asshole in every other way. Abuse involves more than physical aggression. Genevieve is welcome to you. I hope you’re both happy together.”
I realize I’m gripping my pen so tightly I’m afraid it might snap. I want to stab him with it. “You should really get out of here.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Big brother’s never going to find out I was here. I came in the back to avoid his attack dog, so he never has to know. Matvei’s not nearly as powerful as he thinks he is.”
Something about that phrase raises the hair on the back of my neck. It came out of Samson’s mouth with a sneer mixed with hatred and triumph.
“You’re sitting here a month after your wedding, a ring on your left hand. I watched you exchange vows with another woman after dumping me.”
“All optics, Sonya. I thought you’d understand.
Genevieve Mancini is a good girl, and we’re going places.
You know I’ve always been ambitious, and she can help me get there.
And I would really like you to come and join me when I do.
We can start where we left off. You won’t have to work.
You can live in an expensive apartment, have your own car, all the clothes you want. You’ll live a life women dream about.”
“And your new wife is okay with this plan of yours?” I emphasize the word wife.
“It’s a great deal, Sonya,” Samson murmurs, again ignoring my question, his voice dropping to a sexy timbre. Except now, it makes me feel queasy.
I stare at him. “I cannot believe you. Who the hell do you think you are? If you believe I would be your little side piece, you’ve seriously lost your damn mind. Get out of my face and don’t come back.”
Samson’s mask drops. The anger in his blue eyes is a reflection of my own. “Are you really attaching yourself to my brother? I told you he’s dangerous. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
“This isn’t about Matvei. This is about me and my life. I don’t want you in it anymore, regardless of who I’m with.”
I knock on the window. Evgeny is immediately alert and moving toward the door.
“You stupid bitch,” Samson snarls. “You could have had everything. Now you’ll have nothing. I’m going to destroy my brother, and you’re going down with him.”
Samson stands up and begins backing away toward the back door just as Evgeny enters the coffee shop.
“You’re going to regret this, Sonya,” he hisses, and then he’s gone.