Chapter Two #2
One of Dimitri’s men outside the conference room shifted almost imperceptibly. Dimitri himself didn’t react at all, which was reaction enough.
His eyes narrowed just slightly, assessing her differently now. Good. She wanted him to realize she was not ornamental or harmless. Then he countered immediately.
“The guard outside this room,” Dimitri said calmly, “the one pretending to check his phone every thirty seconds. He’s carrying a Beretta beneath his left shoulder holster instead of waistband placement.”
Sofia blinked once despite herself.
“He favors his right side when standing,” Dimitri continued. “Which means he injured his left knee recently. Probably within the last year.”
A chill slid quietly down her spine. She liked to think it wasn’t fear, just awareness of him. Nothing escaped him then. Dimitri took another slow sip of whiskey.
“You’ll have protection in the Volkov estate,” he said. “But there are rules you’ll need to adapt to.”
There it was, presumed ownership, control disguised as practicality. Sofia felt irritation sharpen instantly beneath her calm exterior. The same assumption all powerful men eventually made. That marriage translated into obedience. Slowly, she set her whiskey glass down. Then she met his gaze fully.
“If you’re expecting obedience,” she said coldly, “marry someone else.”
Silence followed, charged and heavy. Most men reacted badly when challenged directly, especially men like Dimitri Volkov. Sofia watched carefully for anger, arrogance, any warning signs.
Instead, something unexpected happened. He became interested. Hell, Dimitri Volkov didn’t even look the least bit offended. The realization unsettled her far more than anger would have.
Dimitri studied her with unnerving focus now, as though recalculating something internally. Most people feared him, Sofia knew that already, but she also realized something equally important in that moment.
Dimitri Volkov was accustomed to performance. Women trying to charm him, men trying to impress him. People softening themselves around him instinctively.
Sofia had done none of those things. Judging by the look in his eyes now, that made her infinitely more dangerous to him than flirtation ever could.
Dimitri finally took another sip of whiskey. “You assume obedience is what I value most.”
Sofia folded her arms lightly. “Isn’t it?”
He lifted one corner of his mouth. It was not quite a smile.
“I value competence.”
The answer caught her slightly off guard. It wasn’t because she believed him entirely. Men like Dimitri Volkov didn’t survive in his world without needing control, but there had been no hesitation in the response either.
Before Sofia could decide how to answer, a knock sounded against the conference room doors. Three measured taps.
Dimitri’s gaze flicked briefly toward the entrance before returning to her again. “Saved by diplomacy.”
“Or interrupted by it,” she answered.
That almost-smile appeared again.
The doors opened a second later, revealing her uncle Matteo. Although her uncle was in his late-fifties now, there was nothing soft about him. He had spent most of Sofia’s life serving as her father’s right hand.
“Everything all right in here?” Matteo asked smoothly, though his attention lingered on Dimitri a fraction longer than necessary.
“Perfectly fine,” Sofia replied before Dimitri could answer.
Her uncle gave a slow nod. “Your father’s waiting downstairs.”
Of course he was. This entire meeting had probably been timed down to the minute. Sofia picked up her clutch from the conference table and smoothed one hand over the front of her dress. The movement gave her an excuse to briefly steady herself.
Despite her composed exterior, something about the conversation with Dimitri had unsettled her balance in ways she disliked examining too closely. He was not what she expected, and that made him dangerous.
As Sofia turned toward the door, Dimitri stepped slightly aside to let her pass. The gesture was perfectly polite and yet controlled.
She remained acutely aware of him standing close enough for the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey to drift faintly toward her.
A wolf. The thought arrived uninvited again. Dimitri wasn’t loud like his brothers, not openly brutal, but he was nonetheless dangerous.
“Ms. Marino,” Dimitri said smoothly.
She paused and looked back at him. His expression remained unreadable, though that faint trace of amusement still lingered somewhere around his mouth.
“I look forward to the wedding,” Dimitri said.
The words themselves were harmless, but his smile wasn’t. For the first time that afternoon, a genuine thread of unease slid quietly beneath Sofia’s skin.
Dimitri Volkov seemed exactly the kind of man capable of dismantling people slowly while smiling the entire time. Somehow, she suspected he knew precisely the effect he had on others. Sofia refused to let any of that show on her face.
Instead, she offered him a composed smile of her own. “I’m sure it will be memorable.”
Something flickered briefly in his dark eyes then. Approval, perhaps, or anticipation. Neither possibility comforted her.
Matteo moved toward the hallway, and Sofia followed beside him as the conference room doors shut quietly behind them. The atmosphere outside felt immediately colder, more crowded.
Marino guards stood stationed along the corridor while hotel staff hurried nervously through the distance pretending not to stare. Sofia could still feel Dimitri’s presence lingering behind her somehow, even with several feet and a closed door separating them.
How annoying. Matteo waited until they reached the private elevator before speaking again.
“Well?”
Sofia glanced toward him. “Well what?”
“What did you think of him?” Matteo asked.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. They stepped inside together. Matteo pressed the lobby button before folding his arms across his chest. “Can you handle him?”
Sofia stared at her reflection in the mirrored elevator wall for a moment. Her makeup remained flawless, her expression was calm. There were no visible cracks.
“He won’t be a problem,” she said evenly.
Matteo studied her carefully. Years ago that scrutiny used to make her nervous, but now she met it without blinking.
Finally, he nodded once. “Good.”
The elevator continued descending in silence. Deep down, beneath all her carefully constructed composure, Sofia knew she was lying to both of them. Because Dimitri Volkov absolutely would become a problem, she just didn’t yet know what kind.