Chapter Five
The charity gala occupied the top three floors of the Obsidian Hotel, one of the most expensive properties in the city and one of the few places willing to host an event attended by men who routinely ordered murders between courses.
Officially, the evening was dedicated to fundraising for children’s hospitals. Unofficially, it was a gathering of predators.
Dmitri stood beside Sofia near the ballroom entrance and watched the room absorb their arrival. It happened almost instantly. Conversations slowed, heads turned, and calculations began.
The newly married Volkov couple had become the evening’s main attraction. The only thing the people in this room cared about was power, and together, Dmitri and Sofia represented a great deal of it.
He could practically see the assessments taking place behind every polite smile. The Marino daughter, and the Volkov prince.
The alliance, future implications, and the potential weaknesses. Out of habit, Dmitri adjusted the cuff of his jacket and surveyed the room before they moved forward. He silently noted three visible exits, two concealed security teams, and four armed men disguised as businessmen.
Nothing immediately concerning. Beside him, Sofia remained perfectly composed.
Dark green silk hugged her curves without looking flashy.
The color contrasted beautifully against her dark hair, which fell in soft waves over one shoulder.
Emerald earrings caught the ballroom light whenever she turned her head.
She looked elegant, dangerous, and gorgeous. Judging by the number of men staring at her, Dmitri wasn’t the only one who noticed. The realization irritated him more than it should have.
A politician approached first, then a businessman, then another politician. The evening quickly became an endless parade of introductions and conversations. Sofia handled every interaction flawlessly.
She smiled when necessary, spoke when appropriate, and revealed absolutely nothing. Dmitri found himself watching her more often than he intended. She adapted quickly.
Most women entering this world through marriage spent months learning which conversations mattered and which smiles concealed threats.
Sofia already knew, because she’d been raised in a family every bit as dangerous as his. Still, watching her navigate the room felt oddly satisfying.
At one point a senator attempted to draw Dmitri into a discussion about shipping routes and customs inspections. The man smiled constantly, which was already a warning sign. People who smiled too much usually wanted something.
Dmitri already knew where the conversation was headed. A request disguised as diplomacy, an obligation disguised as friendship. Before the trap fully developed, Sofia casually appeared beside him.
“Darling,” she said smoothly.
The word sounded ridiculous coming from her.
Dmitri nearly laughed but managed to hold himself back.
“Your brother was asking about next month’s charity auction,” she said.
The senator immediately lost momentum. The conversation was successfully redirected, and the trap was happily avoided. The man excused himself moments later. Once he was gone, Dmitri glanced toward her.
“You interrupted,” he pointed out.
“You looked bored,” she replied.
“I was,” Dimitri answered.
Sofia almost smiled, but the moment disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Hours passed. The performance continued. The remarkable thing was how natural they appeared together. Neither of them had practiced, because they both understood public image.
Whenever someone approached Sofia with too much familiarity, Dmitri found himself drifting closer automatically. When someone attempted to corner him politically, Sofia somehow appeared nearby moments later. They protected each other without discussing or acknowledging it.
While circulating through the ballroom, Dmitri noticed a familiar face approaching Sofia. Victor Reznikov. Dmitri had known Victor since they were teenagers, and he’d disliked him for nearly that long.
Victor possessed the unique talent of being both arrogant and incompetent while somehow believing himself brilliant. Over the years, he’d been arrested for assault, drunk driving, illegal gambling, and one particularly stupid incident involving a nightclub owner’s daughter.
Every single time, his father, the Pakhan of the Reznikov Bratva, had swept in to make the problem disappear before real consequences could arrive.
Victor had spent his entire life protected from the results of his own decisions.
As far as Dmitri was concerned, that explained almost everything about him.
Victor smiled broadly as he approached Sofia. “Sofia.”
“Victor,” Sofia greeted politely.
The man’s gaze traveled over her with entirely too much familiarity. Dmitri was still several feet away, engaged in conversation with a businessman, but his attention shifted immediately.
“I have to admit, when I heard about the wedding, I didn’t believe it,” Victor was saying.
Sofia lifted her champagne glass. “Yet here I am.”
“Married life treating you well?” Victor asked.
Her expression remained perfectly composed. “It’s been good.”
Victor chuckled. The sound instantly annoyed Dmitri. “That’s the official answer.”
Sofia raised an eyebrow. “And the unofficial one?”
Victor leaned slightly closer. “Tell me how you really feel,” Victor said.
The implication hung between them. Dmitri didn’t miss it, and neither did Sofia. For a moment, she simply looked at Victor, expression still unreadable.
“What exactly are you asking, Victor?” Sofia asked.
Victor smiled wider.
“Dmitri Volkov.” His gaze flicked briefly toward Dmitri before returning to her. He continued. “What’s it like being married to him?”
Sofia’s expression didn’t change. Which Dmitri was beginning to learn, was usually a warning sign.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Sofia asked.
Victor laughed. “I was hoping for the honest version.”
Something cold settled in Dmitri’s chest. Enough of this. He crossed the remaining distance and stepped beside Sofia. Victor glanced at him, still looking amused. Dimitri unthinkingly slid one arm over Sofia’s shoulders, tugging her close. To her credit, she didn’t react or flinch at the gesture.
“Victor,” Dimitri said.
“Dmitri,” Victor answered, smile tightening.
“Enjoying the gala?” Dimitri casually asked.
“Very much,” Victor drawled. “I enjoy talking to your wife.”
“I noticed,” Dimitri said dryly.
Victor actually laughed, but Dmitri didn’t. A brief silence followed. Victor glanced toward Sofia again. A mistake. Possessiveness flared through Dmitri with startling intensity. His wife. The thought arrived before he could stop it.
Sofia belonged to him. She was under his protection now, and watching Victor look at her like a fine piece of ass irritated him far more than it should have.
Victor noticed the shift. His smile became slightly more cautious. The bastard was smart enough for that, apparently.
“Relax, Dmitri. We were only talking,” Victor said.
“I’m aware.” The quietness in Dmitri’s voice made the words considerably less friendly.
Victor narrowed his eyes.
Then Sofia spoke before either man could push things further. “Victor was just asking how married life is treating me.”
Dmitri turned his head slightly. “And?”
Sofia met his gaze. A challenge flickered there.
“I told him it was good,” she said smoothly.
Victor snorted. “That’s still the official answer.”
Dmitri looked back at him.
“If my wife wanted your opinion on her marriage, I’m sure she’d ask for it,” Dimitri said.
The smile disappeared completely from Victor’s face.
It was not exactly a threat, but it was close enough. The silence stretched, then Victor raised his hands slightly in surrender.
“Fair enough,” Victor said.
For once, Victor made a smart choice. A moment later he excused himself and disappeared back into the crowd. Dmitri watched him go, making sure he kept going.
Only when Victor was fully across the ballroom did he return his attention to Sofia. She was looking at him with unmistakable amusement. Dmitri frowned.
“What?” Dmitri demanded.
“You scared him away.”
“He seemed intelligent enough to scare himself,” Dmitri replied.
For one glorious second, Sofia’s composure cracked. A soft and unexpected laugh escaped her. The sound hit Dmitri harder than it had any right to. Judging by the way Sofia immediately tried to hide it, she knew it too.
The orchestra began a slower piece shortly afterward. Couples drifted toward the dance floor. A few seconds later Alexei appeared beside them.
“Brother, you should ask your wife to dance,” Alexei said.
Dmitri sighed. He wasn’t in the mood. “Not right now.”
Alexei’s expression remained unchanged. “That wasn’t a question. Dance.”
Then Alexei walked away. Dmitri looked at Sofia. She looked equally unimpressed.
“Apparently we’re dancing,” she said.
“We could fake our deaths,” Dimitri joked.
“I suggested that before the wedding,” she said.
God. Were they actually flirting with each other?
“Good idea.”
Despite himself, Dmitri smiled, and it was a real one this time. He extended his hand. Sofia stared at it, then placed hers in his. The contact felt unexpectedly significant. The dance floor welcomed them instantly.
Observers tracked their every movement. Dmitri settled one hand against Sofia’s waist. She gazed up at him expectantly, and not for the first time that evening, he admired how well that dress fitted her. How it emphasized the curve of her tempting breasts and curves.
The orchestra swelled. They moved together perfectly. Dimitri wasn’t surprised. Everything about Sofia suggested years of etiquette training. She followed effortlessly, matched his pace, and adjusted instinctively.
The ballroom blurred around them. For some reason, Dimitri stopped caring about their audience. His gaze was entirely on his wife. Dmitri tightened his grip slightly during a turn, and it turned out to be a mistake.
His awareness sharpened immediately, to the silk beneath his hand, the warmth of her body, and the faint scent of expensive perfume.
“You didn’t have to rescue me from Victor Reznikov,” Sofia murmured.
“Rescue you?”
“I could have handled someone like Victor on my own,” she said.
“I know.”
Sofia glanced up at him. “Then why intervene?”
Dmitri’s gaze stayed on hers.
“I was watching out for my wife,” he said.
Sofia’s pulse betrayed her with a single hard beat.
“Your wife?” she repeated.
“Last I checked,” he replied.
Sofia rolled her eyes. “Possessive much?”
Dmitri guided her through another turn, bringing her even closer.
“Victor was flirting with you,” Dmitri said quietly.
Sofia arched a brow. “Should I be flattered you’re jealous?”
He didn’t answer. For the first time all evening, something dark flickered behind his eyes. Was that anger, or something more dangerous?
The next turn brought them impossibly close. Close enough for him to feel her breath. Anyone watching would probably assume they were whispering something intimate.
“Careful,” she murmured. “People might think you might actually like me.”
That almost sounded like a taunt.
Feeling reckless, Dimitri pulled her closer until her soft breasts pressed against his suit. He kissed her then, testing her reaction at first. When she responded, his hunger deepened.
Dimitri slid his tongue into her mouth, pleased when she met him halfway. When they finally pulled apart, she looked at him with wide eyes, as though she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
Then the dance ended, and he was forced to release her.
“Excuse me, I need to make a quick trip to the ladies’ room,” Sofia said.
Dimitri watched her disappear into the crowd. So sweet, he thought, touching his own lips.