Chapter 34
Katerina
Damien sits at one head of the table and Dominic beelines to the other. I try not to roll my eyes at the patriarchal seating.
I stand behind the seat next to my husband as he pulls out his chair obliviously. I kick his foot to grab his attention. His head snaps in my direction, and he looks at me questioningly. I gesture to my chair, but his eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
“Pull out my chair, husband,” I hiss under my breath and nod at the other husbands doing it for their wives.
“Of course, my lady,” he says sarcastically and pulls out my chair.
I flash him a wide smile as I take my seat.
I look down and smirk at my utensils. For the first time since I stabbed him, I have a real knife instead of a plastic one.
My smirk isn’t long lasting though. It falls when a large hand confiscates my steak knife and replaces it with one of those damn fake silver plastic ones.
I glare at my husband as he pockets my real knife. He smirks at me and pats his jacket.
“Safety measure. You understand,” he whispers mockingly.
“Don’t trust that false sense of security. I will make this plastic knife hurt just as much as a real one,” I promise quietly with a sweet smile on my face, so his family doesn’t suspect anything.
A few servers enter and place our meals in front of us, and my stomach drops.
Steak.
We’re eating steak.
We’re eating steak and all I have is a fucking plastic knife to cut it with.
I glare at my husband, and he looks at me so innocently that if it weren’t for the smile he’s biting back, I’d believe he was unaware of the situation.
“Is there a problem?” He says loud enough, the whole table looks at me.
“No problem. Thank you for checking, husband,” I grip his leg that I stabbed under the table in a silent threat.
I scoot my chair away from him, wanting to put space between us. But he doesn’t let me get far before pulling me by my seat even closer to him than I was before. Even through the suit, I can see his huge bicep bulge as he moves me. He catches me staring and smirks. Damn him.
I ignore him and start on my vegetables. Once my plate is cleared except the slab of meat, I slowly pick up my plastic knife and get to work. I saw and saw and saw the steak, but it’s almost futile.
It takes me a full minute to cut one bite. By the time I’m on my third bite, I’ve given up.
“Give it back!” I demand under my breath.
“No,” he whispers back.
“Give it back, or I’ll fucking stab you with this one too!” I threaten.
“Steak seems to make you violent. It would be a hazard to give you anything sharp.” He pauses, then looks at me concerned. “Do you want me to help you?”
I eye him skeptically.
“I don’t want your help. I want my knife.” I don’t trust that caring look on his face. He’s up to something.
“Too bad.” He pulls my plate closer to him and starts cutting up my steak for me. I glare at him as he does it. I notice from the corner of my eye that we’ve caught some attention. Thankfully, it’s only Bash and Cecilia. Margot would definitely be asking questions.
Once a piece of my steak is cut, Dominic stabs it with his fork, and I hiss at him.
“Don’t fucking think about eating my steak!” I point my plastic knife at him, so he knows I’m serious.
“It’s for you,” he says lightly.
I stare at his fork in horror as he brings it to my lips. He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks I’m letting him feed me in front of his family.
“Absolutely not!” I hiss.
“It’s the only way you’re eating this steak, doll.” He brings the fork closer to my mouth. I swat his hand away.
“Fuck you!” I stab him with the plastic knife, but it doesn’t penetrate his slacks. It must irritate the last wound though because he lets out a gasp.
He grabs my hand and stands so quickly his chair almost topples over. In a swift move, he pulls me up beside him.
“Excuse us. We’ll be back in a minute.” His stoic tone takes me by surprise. Somehow, he has that mask back in place for his family.
I take in their shocked expressions and smile assuredly. The last thing I need them to think is that I can’t hold my own against my husband.
He drags me out of the room and pushes me up against the wall before the door even slams shut.
“You got steak juice on my suit, tiger!” He sounds appalled at the state of his suit. I look down and see it’s only a few drops. I roll my eyes.
“Take it to the fucking dry cleaners, you misogynistic asshole!” I bite back at him.
He crowds me against the wall, arms on either side of my head, caging me in. It’s not often I feel small, but beneath this behemoth of a man, I do.
“You say a lot for a pretty little lady. What would daddy think?” He mocks me with the worst thing possible.
My vision reddens. How dare he bring Viktor into this! I reach into his jacket pocket and before he can react, I’m holding my steak knife against his neck.
“You mudak,” I hiss. I press the knife against him but not hard enough to draw blood.
“Careful, tiger. I don’t think your claws are as sharp as you think.” He chuckles harshly then moves quicker than a bear. He has his hand wrapped around the front of my neck, lightly chocking me. Fuck him for manhandling me. But fuck me for liking it.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.” Everyone miscalculates me, but one day, they’ll see.
“The stitches on my thigh disagree. But you’re no murderer,” he muses. Even with a knife to his throat, he doesn’t deem me a threat. But I can tell it’s not because he underestimates me, but because he knows he’s safe from me. But not everyone can claim that.
“I’d do whatever it takes to get revenge.” One person in particular comes to mind.
“But you wouldn’t kill your husband,” he challenges me. He knows me well enough to trust me. I deliberate if I would kill him if I had to, and then something horrible dawns on me. I don’t know if I could.
“Not unless you give me a reason to,” I lie.
“Would you do it in front of them?” He raises a brow and points to the door with the hand not around my neck.
The distance he puts between us with the move leaves me cold. Without a thought, I wrap my leg around his and pull him into me. He immediately grips my ass and pulls me up until my core rests against his hardness.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoy being threatened,” I muse as I grind up against him.
“Fuck, tiger,” he moans. “I only enjoy it when it’s my wife threatening me.”
“I wish I could say I only enjoy threatening my husband, but that’d be a lie.” It comes out husky. I can’t stop teasing him, but this one isn’t a lie. I do love my violence.
“You better not be threatening any other man like this.” He thrusts against me as he growls it out.
I moan at the contact and chase him with my hips, seeking more.
“Quiet, tiger. You wouldn’t want your in-laws hearing you’re not a good girl.” The mockery in his tone pisses me off just as much as his movements arouse me.
I bring my mouth close to his.
“They don’t need to know it, but I’ll never be a good girl for you,” I promise him. He just grins in response.
He brings his lips so close I can feel his exhales mingle with my own.
“I can make you my good girl. Just wait and see,” he says confidently. Such misplaced confidence.
I bite his lip then push him back creating distance between us. His shocked expression fills me with pleasure.
“You’ll be waiting a long time, darling.” I laugh as I say it.
He pulls me by my neck into him until our lips brush.
“Fight me all you want but know who you belong to.” His dark tone sends shivers down my spine.
He brings his lips down to mine. My eyes shut, and I bask in his touch. The kiss is heat and passion and need. It’s all the pent-up fire we’ve been fighting.
But all too quickly, it’s over. His abrupt absence leaves me cold and needy. I groan as my eyes fly open to a nightmarish scene.
Bash is standing behind a confused Dominic with such fury, he’s shaking. He must have pulled my husband off of me. I can’t imagine the scene he walked in on nor the conclusions he came to.
“DON’T EVER LAY A HAND ON YOUR WIFE AGAIN!” Bash shouts at my husband.
Dominic’s confusion morphs into fury. He turns to face his brother, and somehow, stands so tall, he seems even bigger and more intimidating.
“DON’T EVER COME BETWEEN US!” Dominic yells back.
Bash doesn’t back down. Bash launches his fist at Dominic, catching him in the eye. I gasp at the move, completely caught off guard. I pegged Roman as the hothead, not Bash. He seemed too sweet and nerdy.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Bash seethes. “You’re not the brother I once knew!”
I step towards Dominic, needing to check on my husband. Bash hears me and starts to make his way to me. He doesn’t drop his gaze from the furious Dominic though.
“Are you okay, Katerina?” His voice drops and is filled with genuine concern. It fills me with such guilt.
Oh no. We’ve worried sweet Bash to the point of hitting his brother. But I fear telling him the truth will only scar him. I hide the knife behind my back before he can spot it.
“I’m okay, Bash. Thank you for stepping in, but it’s not what it looked like,” I try to assure him, but he doesn’t believe me.
“You don’t have to cover for him.” His concern is endearing but so misplaced. “Why don’t you go finish your dinner. I need to talk to my brother.”
For the first time since meeting him, Bash doesn’t look like a boy, but instead a strong man. I believe behind those glasses lies someone formidable.
I look at Dominic questioningly. I don’t want to abandon him with his brother like this, but I also cannot be here if he tells him the sordid truth. I’ll die from mortification.
Dominic looks me over, his searing gaze setting me on fire from within. When his eyes land on my mine, he nods. I thank Bash and head inside.
At least with my steak knife, I can finish my dinner.