Page 64 of Twisted Cage

My most trusted men accompany me tonight. I left Dimitri behind with Faith, knowing if anything goes wrong, I can count on him to get her and her twins to safety. Grigori, though, he’s always at my side no matter what. He oversees an interesting group of my most intelligent, rather talented killers in Emil, Sasha, Roddick, Isaak, Andrey, Gleb, and Luka.

Maybe they’ll be enough keep me from collecting eyeballs because if these guys don’t fucking knock it off, I’ll stroll out of this motherfucker with my pockets sticky and gratifyingly full, my tux dripping blood, and a satisfied smile on my face.

Roddick stares down the valet, his look clearly dialed to fuck all the way off if you think we’re handing you the keys.

Each vehicle has twenty-six hidden compartments loaded with weapons. I’m sure the leader of the Ophidian Society would only employ the best and only after putting everyone through rigorous checks. I’m also sure I don’t care.

They aren’t my checks, so they don’t count. There’s always a first time to go rogue.

When it comes to Nikoletta, I trust no one.

I never have.

Every scar I carry proves my intuition right.

In his five short years as a member, Nikolaj has earned tremendous respect in the order. He’s the first member to be promoted to Protector as early as on his five-year anniversary.

The way guests greet him, draw him into their conversations, and the cautious whispers they leave in his wake are all a testament to the work he’s done to build alliances.

Nikoletta on his arm exposes her in a way that sets my heart racing while steel bands tighten around my lungs until my chest aches. We’re walking a tightrope with no net, either way we fall—catastrophic. His move is brilliant if it gives our enemies pause at taking a swipe at her. Taking aim at Nikoletta means declaring war with Nikolaj. At the society itself. This will make sure everyone knows it.

But if it goes wrong—no. It can’t. That’s it. It cannot go wrong.

By showing she’s under his protection, we can narrow down the list of culprits when the time comes… because the time will come. Someone will strike, and there’s no guarantee it will come from Maksim, Vlad, or Petrov.

Socially, he’s already leagues ahead of where Maksim peaked. Maksim had no choice but to rule with fear, but fear is fluid. Easily transferable to whoever promises the most pain. But when you have true loyalty based on respect, your supporters take the pain to protect you.

He’s exactly what happens when you’re confident in your abilities but know to leave your ego at the door. Something Maksim and Vlad never have been, nor ever will do.

At the moment, he sticks close to Nikoletta, introducing her to small groups throughout the massive grand foyer. The lingering hot gazes outside had my temper spiking, but now, the brushing of fingers over her shoulder followed by the subtle drag of fingertips down her arm while these men greet her has my blood boiling.

I hear a nasty growl of frustration and look for the threat, only to realize it’s coming from me.

Focus, Malikov.

Chest swelling with labored breaths, I clench my fists and force my gaze away.

I sweep the room and guests, desperate to put this snarling energy into something useful. I already know the floor plan thanks to the set of blueprints Nikolaj secured from a talented little hacker friend of his who likes to dabble in seeing what she can get away with.

Now that I stand here in person, I search the exits to see which are clear and which are obstructed by the entertainment and staff. I make note of how heavily guarded the entry points are and which they roped off.

More than half of the exits are blocked, including the one closest to Nikolaj and Nikoletta where they join a group of his friends, including his best friend and Nikoletta’s first kiss, Logan Rhodes. Her eyes light up when he hands her a glass of champagne and winks.

This fucker.

She settles into an animated discussion with him, her hand resting on the newel post of one of two sweeping staircases curving on either side of the room leading to a crescent-shaped balcony looking over the foyer. Beyond is a wall of windows with a view overlooking the terrace and gardens sloping down the expanse of the property beyond.

My mind goes back to Nikoletta’s journal entry of the couple she watched fucking in a similar setup, discreetly in the open, all but daring the other guests to watch. Taking her up there would be stupid. Not just playing with fire but dousing myself in gasoline and lighting the Zippo myself.

Before I can stop it, the picture of us fills my head. My hand over her mouth, muffling her screams as I pound into her harder. Knowing with every thrust, she’ll only get louder, despite everything I do to quiet her, increasing our risk of getting caught.

She’d pierce me with a cutting glare the entire time. If I’m lucky she’d bite the fuck out of my hand and draw blood. Blood I’d gladly drag down the column of her neck and over the rise of her breasts.

I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose as though I can grab the image and drag it clean from my skull. Throat dry, I all but vibrate with this irrational need to be inside her now, now, now.

My nineteen-year-old goddaughter is aiming to be my downfall if I don’t get a fucking grip on myself. I’m not some horny fucking twenty-year-old for fuck’s sake.

My gaze sweeps over Nikoletta for the dozenth time. My jaw clenches a bit more with every glimpse until I swear my teeth will snap with the force.

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