Page 35 of Sweet Animosity

Plus, bonus, I could get my phone back from him.

The other scary Russian dude had made it clear that whoever killed Abakar wasn’t after me… he was the only one after me. Still, silver lining, it was at least one less person who potentially wanted me dead because of my association with an asshole dictator.

Var dragged me through the outer lounge area into his office.

My mouth dropped open when I saw my work on display behind his desk.

Holy shit. There they were, all five of them.

The two men from the other night were also there.

One pointed to me. “The girl from the ceiling.”

Awesome.

Just the sort of nickname any girl would love.

Before I could respond or react, Var dragged me through a hidden door into an antechamber. He punched an incredibly long code into a security panel before a deadbolt on the heavy wooden door unlatched.

He pulled me over the threshold into a smaller, equally elegant office.

While the first office was typical big dick CEO energy with its mahogany executive desk and ubiquitous bookshelves filled with leather volumes, this one was different.

More sinister.

The room was dominated by an elaborately carved ebony desk, which complemented the bright forest green walls. My eye was drawn to a sitting area in front of two black leather chairs. Instead of a coffee table, between them was a strange wooden saddle covered in intricately etched gold. Above the fireplace was a display of four incredibly expensive-looking riding crops.

Holy hell. This was some kind of freaking sex den!

The walls probably turned at the flick of a button to expose dungeon equipment.

Just then, the previously cold fireplace sprang into life.

I fell back as I stared at the bright orange flames.

For just the barest of seconds, I seriously considered the possibility that Var had lit it with his demon mind. Then sanity returned when I noticed the metal pipes under the fake logs. It was propane.

As I swiveled to face him, Var’s arm lowered from the fireplace switch as he pulled the door closed behind him with an ominous click.

He loosened his tie as he focused his angry gaze on me. “Explain yourself.”

With my arm outstretched behind me to make sure I didn’t trip over something, I backed up. These stupid nude patent leather heels were a mistake. I wanted to look professional and sleek, plus I needed to hide the fading hickeys on my neck. So I chose a formfitting, high collar, teal sweater dress with heels and a matching Brahmin purse. But now, as his gaze raked over me, I wished I was in cargo pants and Doc Martens with another oversized sweater.

“There’s nothing to explain. Because of you, I’m out of a job. So you need to give me one. Do you think a two-bedroom apartment in Chicago comes cheap?”

He shrugged out of his dark gray suit jacket and reached for his shirt cuffs. “You are supposed to be sipping wine in a piazza in Italy somewhere with the ten grand I gave you. Not worrying about your rent in Chicago.”

Forgetting the danger I was in, I tossed my purse onto the nearest chair as I lifted my arms and curled my fingers with air quotes. “Oh, yeah, the ten grand deposit on the ‘million’ euros you were going to give me when you ‘found me’ later. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

He raised his arms and mimicked my gesture, curling his fingers. “What is this? What are you doing?”

With a hand on my hip, I smirked. “I’m calling you out on your bullshit. Now, are you going to give me a job, or am I going to the police?”

It was a bold threat. Especially with what I had learned about him, but it was my only option. I was stuck between a Russian and a hard place. Technically between a Russian and another Russian with a hard cock, but there was no point in thinking about that since I had absolutely no intention of repeating my mistake from the other night.

He rolled up one sleeve, then the other, exposing more of his intricate tattoos. I couldn’t quite make out the imagery, but they seemed to be filled with violent, religious idolatry. “You are trying my patience, woman. I put you on that plane for a fucking reason.”

My lips twisted as I shifted to the other hip. “Oh, yeah, I remember. For my own safety. Well, I happen to know that some random Southside gang killed the dictator, and they do not know I even exist.”

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