Page 58 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

I glance back over my shoulder and spot Vera laughing with her friends. I can’t look weak in front of her.

I march straight for the car when a rush of pain hits me. I double over, clutching my ribs. Vera’s laugh grows even louder.

“Viktoriya?” Aleksander asks in a softer voice. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

I can’t object. Speaking right now will hurt even more. He ushers me into the limo and slides in beside me. The driver starts the car and takes off, leaving our guests behind.

“You’re still hurt,” he states the obvious.

“It only happened a few days ago.”

“I know. But this was to keep you safe. You do look beautiful, by the way.”

“You must like me all beat up. Gives you some sick satisfaction.”

He slowly shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“What are you going to do to me when we’re alone? You already spanked me once. Are you going to do it again?”

“I spanked you for own benefit. I could tell you needed it. And no, I’m not going to do that again. Not while you’re in pain.”

“So, once I’m healed, then?”

His smile is dangerous. “Then, all bets are off.”

The reception is held in the party room of the Ritz-Carlton. It’s strange. This is where I stayed when I tried to run away, and Aleksander found me. There really is no escaping him now.

Our guests are already there when we show up. I refused to take pictures looking the way I do. Those can wait.

Our guests cheer when we enter the ballroom. It’s amazing how fast this wedding was put together. The power men like Mikhail and Aleksander wield means they can do almost anything.

Except show me the respect I deserve.

“We should have our first dance,” Aleksander says, gripping my hand. “It will be expected.”

“I can barely breathe, let alone dance.”

“Then I’ll hold you up.” He guides me onto the dance floor and pulls me into his arms. There’s a heat radiating from his body that is … enchanting, to say the least. I never noticed how good Aleksander smelled before.

No. I push that from my mind. I can’t think of Aleksander like that. I hate him, and I will always hate him.

“You never thanked me, by the way,” he says as we sway on our feet. I’m grateful he’s not making me waltz around the floor. I’m barely hanging on as it is.

“Thanked you for what?”

“For saving your life.”

“Mikhail was also there. I’m sure he did most of the work.”

His hands tighten just slightly on my waist. “No. I did. I was the one who found you. I was the one who shot the man intent on killing you.”

“Well, I killed the man who bought me and tried to rape me, so I guess I should be thanking myself then.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he replies. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I won’t tell you, ‘I told you so.’”

“You just did. So, it’s my fault for choosing Gleb, then? For not knowing how evil he was?”

“No, that was his fault. I just like to get you riled up. It’s amusing to me.”

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