Page 6 of Dancing With Delusion

Out the corner of my eye, I see Dmitry pushing his way through the crowd that has gathered, and I was right, they’re all watching our encounter. I swallow the ball of fire burning my throat when Dmitry’s furious glare lands on me. Straightening my shoulders, I push out my chest like I’m not terrified of the consequences of poking a mafia king.

“Get your fucking bitch under control,” his father orders.

It only adds to my already boiling temper. I scoff, taking the glass from his hand and hurling it at the wall behind him.

He doesn’t flinch. Cold bastard. “Dmitry, if you don’t fucking remove her from my sight, I will . . . and it will be final,” he barks. He leans closer, keeping his voice low. “You are very lucky there are witnesses.”

Before I can bite back a response, daring him to do his worst, Dmitry grabs me around the waist, lifting my feet from the ground and carrying me from the room like a naughty child. “What the hell are you playing at, Victoria?” he whisper-hisses close to my ear. We get outside, and he dumps me on my feet but keeps me against him. He turns to Marshall. “Take her home.”

I pull myself out of his grip. “Really, Dmitry? You’re just gonna get your henchman to escort me home?” I laugh, but it’s cold and empty, hiding my hurt. He hasn’t even asked me what happened. “I can take myself home,” I shout, and as I turn to leave, Vivian is in the doorway watching the entire thing with a smug grin on her stupid face.

“I told you,” she mouths, and it ignites the fire again. I push past Dmitry and rush to her, slapping her hard across the face. Marshall grabs me, pulling me away and down the steps before I get a chance to go psycho on the bitch.

“Get the fuck off me, Marshall,” I yell, trying to shrug him away. I glance back towards the door, noting both Dmitry and Vivian have gone back inside. My heart twists painfully.

“Tori, get in the car.” Marshall shoves me towards the Range Rover, pulling the door open and waiting for me to get inside.

“No, I’m not going anywhere without Dmitry.”

“Tori, I’m serious, get in the car,” he spits angrily. “Your little display could get you killed.” When I still don’t move, he bangs his hand on the roof. “Get in the goddamn car,” he shouts.

I’ve never seen Marshall angry, not like this and not aimed at me. I sigh, resigning myself to the fact that I have no choice in the matter.

I slide in, and Marshall slams the door, causing me to jump in fright. He makes his way to the driver’s seat, getting in and making sure to lock the back doors.

I rest my head against the cold glass, realising that yet again, Dmitry’s sent me away. He didn’t leave with me—he chose to get rid of me and stay with her. Is this what it will always be like? Will he always choose them over me? I’ve never seen him so cold towards me. Sure, he gets annoyed, but it usually results in us spending a few hours in the dungeon correcting my behaviour. I smirk at the thought.

But him sending me home with Marshall like this is a clear message he’s more than annoyed. I scowl because so am I. He shouldn’t have left me in a roomful of sharks, especially when the main one wants me out of his son’s life. The fact Dmitry didn’t even bother to ask me about it, let alone defend me, pisses me off once again. I know exactly how to get his attention and a plan forms in my head.

“Marshall?”

“Yes, Tori?” His tone is bored as his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

“You said before there were cameras in here, right?”

He frowns. “Of course. Dmitry has them everywhere.”

I grin. “Good.” Reaching down to gather the hem of my dress, I pull it up until it’s around my waist. Marshall’s frown deepens and his eyes flit from the road then back to me. I hook my fingers in my knickers and slide them down my legs, pulling them off completely and holding them up in the air for him and the cameras to see.

Marshall’s eyes widen. “Tori, what the fuck are you doing?” he barks, and I detect a note of panic in his voice.

“Eyes on the road, Marshall,” I say, my voice low and sultry. He groans, shaking his head at my latest antics.

I slowly run my hands up my thighs, gasping aloud when my fingers settle between my legs, stroking through my folds. I rest my head back against the cold leather and close my eyes. If Dmitry isn’t going to help me out, I’ll sort it my fucking self.

Rubbing my clit, I bring myself to the edge, letting out moans of pleasure as I climb higher. I drive my fingers into my pussy then bring them to my lips to taste myself.

I fix my eyes on Marshall’s reflection. He looks panicked. “You’re going to get me fucking killed, Victoria,” he shouts, ruining the build-up to my climax.

“Are you hard, Marshall?” I ask, smirking as I lower my dress back into place. “Relax, it’s just a bit of fun. You men need to lighten up once in a while.”

I stare out the window, a smug smile on my face. That’ll teach the bastard to send me home alone.

Dmitry

This fucking woman is going to be the death of me. Her irrational behaviour around my father and business associates is going to get her killed. I know she was pissed at me for sending her home, but the need to clean up her fuck-up again weighs heavily on my shoulders. Not only that, but her tantrums are starting to wear on my resolve. Even if the fire in her eyes is a complete turn-on, no one stands up to my father like that without facing the consequences.

Watching as the Range Rover drives off, I run my hands through my hair and make my way back into the venue. Vivian is still standing in the doorway, holding her cheek as a small tear slides down her face. I let out an exasperated breath, walking straight past her and back into the building. When did my life get so complicated? Running my empire is so much easier than dealing with women. Maybe my father was right to marry for convenience instead of love.

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