Page 48 of Dancing With Distraction

His lip lifts slightly in what I’m sure would be a snigger if the old fucker knew how to be amused. “I trust no one.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Not even your own son?”

“Is this to do with the girl? I see why you’re attracted to her and I’m sure having her turn up like that tonight was inconvenient, but you can’t run around doing favours for people. It will come back to bite you.”

“It’s nothing to do with her. Jesus,” I mutter, pushing to stand and staring out the window. “You realise I’ve made a good, solid life in London. I fought my way to the top, and now I’m here, I still have to ask your permission to end a fucking rat like him?”

“There’re still parts you don’t run,” he points out.

“Of course,” I snap, “you never fail to point out the things I haven’t done. Maybe if you’d let me end Ronnie fucking Fraser years ago, we wouldn’t be here now and I’d have complete control of the docks and the train lines. Now, the bastard wants to give me ten percent.”

“And his daughter,” my father muses.

“Let’s not forget the icing on the cake,” I snap. “Why are we hanging around, bending to his demands?”

“Things need to be done properly. There is an order, and if we begin to pick off the parts we don’t like, where would that leave us?”

“In charge,” I yell.

“With no one willing to deal with us,” he spits. “With other countries ending agreements. What then? We kill them all? It doesn’t work like that, Dmitry. We play the game and we come out on top. Vivian is part of the game. Marry the girl and forget this bitch,” he snaps, shoving the file back across the desk, “before you take us all down.”

Tori

Fuck Dmitry. When have I ever needed anyone to protect me? Nobody did it when I was a child, so I certainly don’t need anyone now.

I grabbed a taxi back to my cramped little bedsit after leaving my booty call. There was no way I could stay in that apartment, waiting for Dmitry to show.

And as much as I’m going to miss the space and luxury his place offered, at least I won’t have him manipulating me into staying with a fucking married man. I sigh. No matter how much my body craves him.

Unlocking my door to the dingy dark space, I groan. It’s a stark contrast to Dmitry’s apartment.

I sigh, kicking the door shut with my foot. I never considered the day would end like this, that I would be back here in my cold, empty space. My saving grace is knowing Marcus is out of the city, which means I’m safe for now and I can consider my next move. Maybe it’s about time I stand up to him for good. If I threaten him with going to the police, it would protect Poppy permanently, as long as they believe me.

One thing Dmitry was right about, I can’t continue living my life in fear of my brother.

I drop my bag on the floor, slipping off my shoes. The buzz of the alcohol is wearing off, and all I want right now is sleep and to forget this shitty day ever happened.

Sliding out of my dress, I get under my sheets and inhale the scent of Dmitry that still lingers from our last night here together. When did it all get so complicated?

I wake with a start and I can’t breathe. There’s a heavy weight on my chest, and I feel a pressure around my throat . . . like hands are squeezing the life from me.

I open my eyes, but my room is in complete darkness, and I can just about make out the figure on top of me. My hands reach for the ones at my throat, clawing at them and trying to give me some reprieve so I can get oxygen into my lungs. My last thought as darkness consumes me is that this isn’t Dmitry.

Suddenly, I’m startled back into consciousness by a slap around the face. I gasp, realising I can breathe again.

“Nice of you to join me, Victoria.” The sinister voice I know too well cuts right through me. Tears threaten to fall and a lump forms in my throat as fear paralyses me. He was supposed to be with my parents this weekend.

“What’s wrong, Victoria?” Marcus’s tone is mocking.

The tears slip from the corners of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, willing this to be a bad dream.

Marcus roughly grabs at my breast, and I feel the sharp sting as the skin from my recent wound splits apart and blood seeps from it. The heat of his breath against my neck sends my mind reeling back to when I was a child, and that same feeling of helplessness returns.

“Not so fucking brave now I’m here, are you?” he sneers. He shoves his fingers into my open wound, and I scream as excruciating pain rips through me. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “That’s right, Victoria, scream. Nobody can hear you.” I frown in confusion, knowing Phoebe will be able to hear me from upstairs. “If you think that friend of yours will be down to rescue you, think again. She’s gone away for the weekend. She needed to clear her head after your little temper tantrum.” That same leer he used when I was a child adorns his evil face, reminding me of when he would pin me to the bed and take what he wanted.

He grabs something off the bedside table, then he grips my jaw between his fingers and pinches my nose until I have no choice but to open, and then he stuffs cold metal in my mouth. “He was here, in our place,” he roars, holding my mouth closed. “Choke on his fucking expensive cufflinks, you whore.”

I turn my head away until he releases my mouth and then I spit them in his face. He grabs my chin, and I claw at his arms, bringing my knees up between us and knocking him off-balance. I scramble away, jumping from the bed and attempting to create space between us, but he recovers quickly and grabs a fistful of my hair before slamming me into the wall face first.

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