CHAPTER 16 #3
Liam’s face was a mask of cold fury, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it would shatter. His eyes, fixed on Vance, promised an agonizing death. He hadn’t said a word, but his presence alone was a violent declaration of ownership and impending retribution.
Vance stammered, his earlier bravado completely evaporated. “M-Mr. Morozov! A pleasure... I was just... discussing art... with Miss Collins.”
Liam’s gaze flicked to my hand, still on Vance’s lapel, then to Vance’s hand, which had been dangerously close to my waist. A low, guttural growl rumbled in Liam’s chest, a primal sound of a predator staking its claim.
“She’s not discussing art with you, you pathetic worm,” Liam snarled, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that cut through the genteel chatter of the gallery like a knife. “She’s discussing nothing with you. And you won’t be discussing anything with anyone again, for a very long time.”
He shoved Vance violently, sending the man stumbling backward, tripping over his own feet, landing in an ignominious heap beside a display of ancient pottery. Vance scrambled up, his face ashen, fear turning his eyes into wide, pleading saucers.
“Mr. Morozov, please! I meant no disrespect!” he stammered, already backing away, trying to melt into the crowd.
Liam didn’t even glance at him. His eyes were fixed on me, a blazing mixture of possessiveness and raw, barely contained fury. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh, not gently, pulling me against his hard, unyielding body.
“You played a dangerous game, moya roza,” he rasped, his mouth hovering inches from mine, his breath hot against my lips. “And you almost got burned.”
“I got what we needed,” I countered, my heart still pounding, a heady mix of fear and triumph. Vance had been about to say Konstantin’s name. He’d confirmed Liam’s suspicion.
“He almost touched you,” Liam snarled, his eyes blazing, ignoring my words.
“He dared to look at you with lust. He dared to think he could take you.” His hand slid down my back, gripping my ass, pulling me even closer, pressing my bruised foot uncomfortably against his leg.
“You are mine, Rose. Only mine. And no one, not even a slimy politician’s aide, gets to forget that. ”
He kissed me then, savagely, possessively, his mouth crushing mine, his tongue invading with a fierce urgency that stole my breath.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a branding, a reclaiming, a brutal assertion of ownership in front of a startled, whispering crowd.
I could taste his anger, his relief, his undeniable desire.
My hands went to his neck, clinging to him as if he were my only anchor in the swirling chaos.
He broke the kiss, his eyes still burning into mine. “We’re leaving. Now.”
He practically dragged me through the stunned onlookers, ignoring their stares, his body radiating an aura of such dangerous menace that people instinctively parted ways.
We moved swiftly towards the exit, Vasily already waiting by a black SUV, its engine idling.
Vance was nowhere to be seen, likely cowering in a corner, or already being “dealt with” by one of Liam’s phantom men.
Liam opened the back door, practically throwing me inside, before sliding in after me. He pulled me onto his lap, his arms wrapping around me, holding me in a vise-like grip. Vasily sped away, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows.
“You were reckless, Rose,” Liam muttered against my hair, his voice rough, still vibrating with anger. His hand slid under my dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my thigh, a possessive, punishing caress.
“I got you information,” I retorted, my own adrenaline still high, a defiant spark in my eyes. “He was about to say Konstantin’s full name. He confirmed his involvement, confirmed he was the puppet master. He confirmed Thorne defers to him. It worked.”
“It worked because I was there to stop him from going too far,” Liam growled, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin on my inner thigh, a raw warning. “You push too hard, moya roza. You forget who you’re dealing with. Not everyone has your... resilience.”
His words, meant as a reprimand, also held a grudging admiration. The contradiction was infuriating. And incredibly arousing. I could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against my ass, a testament to his anger, his fear, and his undeniable desire.
“He said Konstantin was the one pulling the strings,” I whispered, turning my head to meet his gaze. “That even Thorne defers to him. He was about to give us a name, Liam. A direct link.”
Liam’s jaw tightened. “I heard him. And now we have enough to confirm what we already suspected. Thorne is compromised. Deeply. But his aide... Vance... he’s now a liability. And a loose end.”
A shiver went down my spine, not from fear, but from the chilling efficiency of his world. “What happens to him?”
Liam’s eyes were cold, devoid of emotion.
“He disappears. He learns what happens when he plays games he doesn’t understand, with women who belong to other men.
” His grip on my thigh tightened, his thumb stroking higher, dangerously close to my heat.
“And you, moya roza... you learn what happens when you ignore my commands.”
His mouth descended, capturing mine again, but this time, there was a punitive edge to his desire.
It was a kiss designed to remind me of my place, of his dominance, of the dangerous line I had crossed.
My body, however, betrayed me, responding with an immediate, fervent heat.
My hips instinctively shifted against him, craving the pressure, the promise of his raw possession.
The SUV sped through the night, a silent, powerful beast carrying us back to the safe house.
The war against Konstantin Volkov had just begun, and I had just fired my first shot.
But in doing so, I had also reignited the battle for control with Liam, a battle I wasn’t sure I wanted to win.
Not entirely. Not when his dominance felt so incredibly, viscerally right.