Chapter 8
NIKA
Istorm out of the lawyer’s office and into the lobby. I’m seething with anger when Gabe catches up. We stand in silence as the elevators rush toward us and all I can feel is my hammering heart and a litany of curse words zooming through my skull.
“That was why you married me, isn’t it?” I say through my teeth. “You want my money.”
“To be fair, it’s a lot.”
“You piece of shit.” I whirl on him, hands balled to fists, practically smoking with how badly I want to knee him in the dick. “You tried to trick me, didn’t you? And that slime ball Sorokin was willing to help!”
He shrugs, watching me with that infuriatingly calm smirk. The bastard isn’t even ashamed of himself. “Can you blame me? I have a war to run, darling. I need resources.”
“You can suck my big fat resource, you asshole.” The elevator dings and I stomp on.
Two men are waiting in the back, both of them in disheveled suits.
They look like exhausted junior bankers.
One’s whispering on the phone, begging someone not to be angry with him for staying out all night working again.
Gabe gets on beside me.
The descent down is maddeningly slow. I want to scream in my husband’s face. How dare he try to take what’s mine? Even though I didn’t know I was filthy rich, that doesn’t matter. He married me, fingered me, and now he’s trying to rob me too.
The piece of trash.
“It’s not just about legitimacy. This was never just about my father. You married me for money.” I hiss at him, ignoring the other two men. Although I hear one of them mutter, “Money’s kind of a big deal though.”
As soon as we reach the ground floor, I storm out. Gabe quickly keeps up.
“Why would I give away my game, Nika? Nothing changes. We have a deal. You help me win the Dragon position and I find your mother.”
“I could hire a thousand private investigators with the stupid amount of money I have!”
“Maybe, but you’re my wife now.” He grabs my arm and stops me.
We’re standing near the doors. Sunlight streaks in through huge glass windows.
The tiles are polished to a sheen. Men and women in business attire walk past, and if any of them are worried about me, none stop to find out what’s going on.
“You think my enemies are going to leave you alone?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t try to scare me.”
“It’s the truth. I didn’t plant that drone. I didn’t hire those goons.”
“For all I know, you did.”
“I saved your life, Nika. I’d do it again if I could.”
“Great! You risked yourself for a big, fat wallet!” I try to shake him off, but his grip is iron. “Let me go.”
“No. Listen.” He seems frustrated. There’s a crack in his usually calm exterior.
And the sick thing is, I like it. I love that I’m getting to him and pissing him off.
I don’t usually have this kind of power over the people around me.
All my life I’ve been hiding and shrinking.
It’s not easy, pushing back against him right now.
I’m so pissed at his audacity, I can’t help myself.
“Why should I listen to you?!”
“Because I’m still your only option. My enemies might not realize you have control of the money, but they know you’re my wife. They know who your father was. And they know I think you’re important. That makes you a target.”
“God damn it, Gabe.”
“Nothing. Changes. You help me and I help you.”
I glare hate at him. I can’t believe this is happening.
My whole life, I’ve been filthy rich. I didn’t have to stay in some shitty apartment, didn’t have to work a hellish job, didn’t have to get groped by my boss.
Me and Aunt Yelena could’ve taken vacations.
We could’ve bought new cars instead of driving beat up clunkers.
I could’ve bought my own damn art gallery and ran it my own way.
My life could have been easy, instead of what it has been.
Boring, routine, hard, and mostly painful.
“No more lies.” I face him, raising my chin. My lips are trembling. I want to break out in tears. I want to scream and thrash, but most of all, I want to disappear. It’s better when nobody can see me. Life is easier when I’m invisible and helpless.
But if I fall back on old habits, Gabe’s going to tear me to pieces.
“I haven’t lied to you yet.”
“That yet is doing a lot of work. You kept things from me. That’s just as bad.”
He tightens his grip, a sharp pulse, before releasing me. “Alright. Full disclosure.”
“Each and every dime goes through me first. You understand that? If you’re going to use my money to fight this war, I’m going to count every last penny.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s your right.”
“Good. Don’t forget it.” I’m dizzy and struggling not to collapse. This is way harder than anything I’ve ever done. Standing up to him is terrible—
But oddly exhilarating too.
“That makes us partners now, doesn’t it?
” He leans in close and slips his hand into mine.
He tugs me against him. I swear, people are watching.
Embarrassment floods me, but screw them and screw him.
“All the fucked up, monstrous shit I’m going to do will be on your hands too. Unless you sign it all over.”
It’s tempting. Why not give him what he wants? It’ll be easier for me. And that way, I won’t have the moral agony of being wrapped up in the fight that’s coming.
But for once, I don’t want to take the quiet, easy way out.
“Partners,” I say, squeezing his hand tight. “Which means you’re as much mine as I am yours.”
We stay like that, standing inches apart in a crowded room, until he turns and steers me away.
I stumble after him, jogging to keep up, until he pushes me back into the town car.
“Get moving. I don’t care where, keep going.
Stay in the city.” The divider between us and the driver rolls up as the car pulls away from the curb.
“What are you doing?”
Gabe pulls me roughly into his lap. He twists one of my arms behind my back and I yelp, whining as a stab of pain jerks into my shoulder and a pulsing, tingling need grows in my belly.
“Sealing the deal.”
He crushes his mouth to mine in a vicious, hungry kiss.
I return it with a gash of lust, desire ringing into my core like an explosion.
I hate this man—he’s a liar, a bastard, a violent thug—and I still can’t help the impulsive, overwhelming need I feel every time he touches me.
It’s impossible, it’s unnatural, and I love it.
I hate him too. I bite his lower lip, but that only seems to make him that much more eager, the sick freak.
“Hold on,” I say, gasping, pushing him back. “Who said I wanted this?”
He ignores my question. “All the shit I’ve done to get to where I am—all the bad choices, the violence, the hell I’ve been through—and now I have to deal with you too.”
“If you hate me so much, why the hell are you kissing me?”
“Because a stupid part of me thinks I can fuck you from my system. That way I won’t care when I bleed you dry.”
His hands fist in my hair as he roughly tugs off my jeans. I whimper against his mouth as he kisses me, devouring my tongue, our teeth clashing in desperation. If I had a working brain, I’d marvel at what he admitted to—but I’m too busy aching with how badly I want him to touch me.
But there’s that word, buzzing at the edge of my awareness…
His hips grind into mine as he presses me back against the seat. I gasp, pulling him closer. I feel his hardness between my legs and there’s a little voice whispering in the back of my head, telling me to stop…
I arch, groaning. He holds one arm above my head and tugs at his jeans, releasing his thick cock as he does it, grinding his shaft against my pussy.
I’m so wet it’s sloppy and slick and feels so damn good.
There’s only a thin sheen of panty fabric between him and me, and my skull’s on fire and my heart’s a mess in my throat, and I have to twist to get a knee up between us.
He grunts in surprise when I kick him back. I lay there, panting for air, still spread as he kneels a few inches away, his cock hard and long. It takes a lot of effort not to look.
"Wait a second,” I say, cheeks starting to burn with shame. “I’m sorry, but I have to tell you something.”
“I hope it’s important.” He strokes himself slowly. Which is about the worst thing he could do right now. It makes me want to scream with how much I need him between my legs right now, but fear ultimately wins out, like it always does with me.
“God, this is mortifying.” I push back, covering myself with my arms and tugging up my pants. “Can you quit with the, you know—“ I nod at his stroking hand.
He stops and looks very amused. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before.”
My eyes drop to my hands. Now I want to throw up with embarrassment. I never should’ve let him get this far and now I’m having about the most uncomfortable conversation of my entire life. “I’ve never had the chance,” I say quietly. My voice sounds small and I feel tiny.
His smirk fades, which is a first, but I don’t have the capacity to enjoy it. I’m too busy feeling pathetic.
“I didn’t know.” He stops touching himself. “You’re really a virgin? You’re not fucking with me?”
“You’d deserve it if I was,” I snap, blinking back tears. “But yes, god, don’t make me feel like I’m fucking weird because of it, okay?”
“No, you’re not weird at all, it’s just—“
“Just what?! It’s bizarre for a woman my age to still be a virgin?
Well, guess what? Every guy who might’ve wanted to sleep with me ended up disappearing after a date or two.
I’ve never had a boyfriend for longer than a week and that was in sixth grade, and mostly because it happened exclusively online.
You ever wonder what my father did for my childhood?
Mostly, he fucked me up from a distance, that’s what. ”
I pull on my pants. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now. I should’ve gone with it, slept with him, gotten the whole virginity thing out of the way, but now it’s sitting between us like a big fat tumor.
Which isn’t fair. I would’ve had sex with someone a long time ago if I ever had the chance. But my father’s men have been scaring away boyfriends my whole life, and eventually I gave up on the idea of having a normal romantic relationship.
Gabe sighs and sits back, pulling his underwear back on.
I’m shaking with how badly I want this to be over.
If I could go invisible, I would. He’s going to treat me like a freak now, mostly thanks to this terrible timing, but also because he probably doesn’t want to get involved with a loser virgin like me.
But instead of pulling away, he moves closer. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious. So you haven’t had sex.” He watches me, the hunger still in his eyes. “That doesn’t change a damn thing.”
My breath hitches in my chest. Competing, complicated emotions war for control.
I’m tempted to jump out of the car right now and take my chances on survival.
But I’m also tempted to beg him to fill me to the brim, to fuck me and show me what I’ve been desperately missing and wanting ever since I found out sex is even a thing.
“Well, I think it means I’m not going to do it for the first time in the back seat of a moving car.”
He dips his chin, eyes wrinkling with amusement. “That’s probably fair.”
“God, I feel like an idiot.”
“Don’t. I’m glad you told me.” He puts a hand on my thigh. "You should be proud of yourself. Not many people wait until marriage these days.”
I laugh despite myself. It’s not actually funny, but he’s being kind and shockingly gentle about this, and I’m relieved he’s not making me feel worse.
“Who said I’m having sex at all? Maybe I’m trying celibacy.”
The way he looks at me in reply sends a tingle down into my core.
He leans forward and wipes the tears from my eyes—and brings them to his lips, sucking them from his fingers.
My jaw drops in surprise. He does it again, and this time, he pushes his fingers into my mouth.
I hesitate, panicking, before I suck them, tasting the salt.
“You can try,” he whispers as he slides his fingers past my lips and back out again. “But I doubt you’ll be very good at it.”
With that, he pulls his pants back on. Once we’re both decent, he knocks on the driver’s window and instructs him to take us back to the hotel. I’m left simmering, stunned and pulsing with how badly I still want him, even if sleeping with him is much more complicated than it should be.