Page 53 of Deceitful Promises

“Ooh, scary,” he says, but I can read people, and he can’t hide the genuine flicker of fear moving across his rat-like features.

“Ania has been through enough,” I go on. “She doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to spend time with her mother, baby brother, and …” Me—her man. What the fuck? I can’t say that. “You should agree to the Sokolovs’ terms. It’s a fair price.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then this ‘Daddy’s boy’ will have to show you who the city really belongs to.”

“Pfft. You can’t scare me. You have too many rules.”

“My father has rules,” I tell him. “Even the Bratva has rules. But when you’ve seen the most evil things humanity has to offer, you tend to have a more relaxed attitude toward them.”

“Are we all forgetting why you hired me?” Roman snaps. “This man took your sister.”

“And you put her life in danger … twice.” Mikhail leans even closer, forcing Roman to lean away from him so they don’t make physical contact. “My brother’s terms are fair. We’ll give you two days to consider them carefully. If not …”

Roman stands, opening and closing his hand, visible rage pumping through him. This isn’t how he imagined this meeting was going to go. He strikes me as a man who’s hopped up with what little power he’s been able to scrounge together.

“I don’t like being threatened.”

“That is irrelevant to us,” Dimitri says.

Roman grits his teeth, then says, “What do you think would happen if I got my hands on that oh-so-slender sister of yours?”

I snap. I lose control.

It’s like I blackout. Suddenly, I leap over the table, and I have my hand on his throat. I lift him clear off his feet with one hand, digging my fingers into his neck, feeling the tendons and the blood pumping, feeling how fragile he is. The muscle tries to get involved, but then Mikhail is on him, an arm around his neck, holding him in place.

He kicks his legs like the weak little shit he is. Suddenly, there are men all over the food court—his men, Sokolov’s men, and my men—but I see nothing else except the redness in this bastard’s cheeks and the fear in his eyes.

“What were you saying?” I growl. “Go on. Keep going. Tell us what you’re going to do to Ania.Tell us.”

“I-I …” He begins to choke and sputter, clearly about to run out of what little air he has left. “I …”

I drop him, staring as he crumples in a heap on the floor. Violent intent surges up in me. I’m usually measured, but all I want to do now is tear his limbs from his body and rip him into tiny little pieces to show him how powerless he is. What right does he have to threaten Ania?

“She’s been through enough,” I snarl. “Threaten her again, or even fucking hint at it. I don’t care if my father’s business goes into the gutter. I don’t care if the entire city sees it. I don’t care if the cityburns. Threaten her again, and I’ll feed you your teeth. Do you understand?”

He tries to retain some of his tough-guy persona even on the floor, smirking up at me. When I lean down a bit, that all fades away. His voice quivers. “Okay, okay.”

“Now get thefuckout of my sight,” I snarl.

Mikhail lets the muscle go, and the two weasels skulk away.

“He won’t forget that,” Dimitri mutters.

“Fuck him,” Mikhail says, looking at me. “He stood up for Ania. That’s all that matters.”

CHAPTER 22

ANIA

I’m kneeling next to the toilet, almost doing it, nearly putting my finger in the place that will makeithappen. Yet every time I move to cross that line, it’s like I see Aiden staring at me, that mixture of support and fierceness and feral need in his eyes. I hear his words about athletes and calories, hear the support in his words, and feel his warm touch against me.

Then there’s a knock at the door. “Yes?” I call, standing up.

“It’s me.”

For a second, I think I’m hallucinating. It sounds like Dimitri. I go to the door, open it, then throw myself at my big brother. He catches me in a hug. Seeing him here, in what should be my prison—though it doesn’t feel that way—is surreal. He hugs me tightly.

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