Chapter 2 #2
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said quietly.
Wouldn’t I?
The truth was complicated. Because no, I wouldn’t hand her over to Malrik. Not because I was good. Not because I cared. But because the mere thought of Malrik touching her made something ugly and violent rise inside me, and I refused to examine that too closely. So instead, I stayed cold.
“That depends entirely on whether you listen to me today.”
Fury flashed bright in her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”
“I’ve never claimed otherwise.”
She shoved past me hard enough her shoulder clipped mine. “I hate you.”
The lie sat between us immediately. Not because she didn’t dislike me. She absolutely did. But hatred required distance. And somehow, despite every reason she should fear me, Emerald kept stepping closer instead.
Hours later, Malrik arrived exactly as expected.
The front doors opened and the man walked inside like he owned every room his eyes touched.
Sandy blond hair brushed back carelessly from his face while pale blue eyes swept through the foyer sharp enough to strip flesh from bone.
A toothpick rolled lazily between his teeth as he removed his gloves one finger at a time.
Confidence radiated from him in waves. Not normal confidence. The kind born from surviving things that should have killed him years ago. Malrik looked like evil learned how to wear expensive suits.
“Nikolai,” he greeted smoothly.
“Malrik.”
His gaze moved slowly around the house. “Nice place.”
“It serves its purpose.”
“So did Lucien.” I remained silent. Fake sympathy stretched briefly across his face. “Shame what happened.”
“No,” I said honestly. “It isn’t.”
That earned me a curious look. Malrik dropped into one of the chairs in the sitting room without invitation while Viktor remained stationed nearby .
“Well,” Malrik sighed casually, “I suppose that makes the little Voss head of the family now.”
“And?”
A grin pulled slightly at his mouth around the toothpick. “Means we’re business partners now.”
I leaned back against the edge of the desk calmly. “Does it?”
His pale eyes sharpened. “Lucien and I had profitable arrangements.”
“Lucien’s arrangements died with him.”
A rough laugh escaped him. “You really think it works that way?”
“I know it does.”
Silence stretched tight between us while Malrik studied me carefully, probably trying to decide whether I actually had Lucien’s spine or whether he would eventually crush me beneath his shoe. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t my father.
Lucien tolerated men like Malrik because money mattered more to him than principles ever did. I hated men like him because they reminded me exactly what the Voss empire truly was beneath the wealth and tailored suits. Rot disguised as power .
Malrik leaned back slightly. “Heard Roman’s tearing through Voss properties already.”
“He can try.”
“He’s angry.”
“He should be.”
Another curious look. Then his eyes drifted toward the staircase. “Mira around?”
The question tightened something dark beneath my ribs instantly. “No.”
“That’s a shame.” He smirked faintly. “Always enjoyed seeing that beautiful piece of ass walking around Lucien’s house.”
My jaw flexed once. Barely noticeable. Still, Malrik caught it immediately.
He continued talking about routes, shipments, increasing demand for certain “products,” all while I counted down the seconds until he left my fucking house. Every word out of his mouth felt coated in blood and greed.
“I’ll look into the route issues,” I finally said just to end the conversation.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Malrik stood slowly, smoothing one hand down the front of his coat. “Congratulations on the ‘promotion,’ by the way. ”
Then, “Oh good, you’re finally leaving.”
Fuck! My eyes closed briefly. Of fucking course.
Malrik turned immediately toward the doorway just as Emerald walked into the room carrying a bowl in one hand.
She stopped the second she noticed him. Then looked toward me suspiciously. Then back toward him again. Malrik’s interest was immediate. Dangerously immediate.
“Well,” he murmured slowly, pale eyes sliding over her. “Who do we have here?”
“She’s no one,” I answered sharply.
Emerald looked personally offended by that response. “Excuse—”
Malrik crossed toward her before she could finish. Every muscle in my body tightened instantly as he took her hand smoothly and pressed his mouth against her knuckles.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” he said lazily.
Something inside me snapped violently. Mine.
The thought hit so fast and hard it nearly pissed me off more than Malrik touching her in the first place.
Mine. Not soft. Not romantic. Possessive.
Protective. The kind of instinct that came from ownership and violence rather than affection. I hated it .
Emerald was supposed to be leverage. Revenge. A complication I intended to use against Roman. So why the fuck did seeing another man touch her make murder suddenly feel reasonable?
I moved before the thought fully settled. One second Malrik stood in front of her. The next, I was between them.
“Enough,” I said coldly.
Malrik’s pale eyes lifted slowly toward mine.
“Interesting,” he smirked.
“She’s not part of business.”
“That so?”
“Yes.”
A dangerous kind of stillness settled betwee n us sharp enough to cut skin. Then slowly, Malrik smiled. Not friendly. Predatory.
“Careful, Nikolai,” he said quietly. “You want me as an ally. Not an enemy.”
I said nothing because men like Malrik mistook silence for hesitation. It wasn’t. It was restraint. Barely.
His gaze drifted past my shoulder toward Emerald one final time. “Nice meeting you,” he said smoothly. “Whoever you are. ”
Then he finally left. The second the doors shut behind him, rage snapped hard inside my chest.
I turned toward her immediately. “What the fuck did I tell you?”
Emerald jumped slightly at the tone before glaring right back at me. “Oh please.”
I grabbed her arm before she could walk away. Hard enough to stop her instantly.
“Ow—Jesus Christ!” she snapped, trying to pull free. “You’re hurting me!”
“You were told to stay upstairs.”
“And I thought he was gone!”
“You thought wrong.”
“I was hungry!”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Hunger was worth walking into a room with Malrik Drax?”
“Well excuse me for not wanting to starve to death in your depressing psychopath mansion!”
“You do not ignore me when I tell you something.”
“Oh my God,” she snapped. “You are so dramatic.”
“You could have been taken. ”
The words landed harder than I intended. Her mouth opened slightly before closing again. For half a second, something shifted across her face. Then the attitude returned full force.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t invite terrifying human traffickers over for coffee!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
I tightened my grip unconsciously because the truth sat ugly beneath my ribs.
The point was the second Malrik touched her, something vicious inside me nearly turned violent.
The point was I didn’t like anyone looking at her long enough to think they had a right to.
The point was somewhere during these last two weeks, Emerald Deveraux stopped feeling temporary inside this house. That realization was dangerous as fuck.
Her blue eyes narrowed slightly while studying my face. “Nikolai?”
“What!”
Her voice softened just enough to completely throw me off balance.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”