Page 28 of Tarnished Reign

No matter who ended up with Adriana in their bed, it would be forced. They would only have won the right to use her and would not have won her hard-earned consent.

That's what I want. That's the way I want to have her. I want her under me, panting, begging, and absolutely lost in the moment. The rush it would give me to claim her that way should worry me.

I've never felt the desire to do so with any other woman. Hell, I don't really date anymore. I'm used to barking out orders and being obeyed. I'm used to beating answers out of people reluctant to give them. I'm used to fucking beautiful women, but not shy virgins.

Adriana is a whole new challenge, and I relish it.

When I first started working for Jacob, everything was new, and everything was a challenge. It took an immense amount of hard graft for me to win the respect of his men, and even the respect of my own men. I handpicked a small crew, but it's not as if Alexis and Yuri came to me believing in me from the start. I had to earn their respect. Their obedience came immediately, because they were my close guards, and Jacob ensured that everyone in his organization understood that I was an unofficial second to him. Obedience and respect are entirely different beasts, though, and I always wanted the latter. I made damn sure I got it. I will do whatever it takes to make sure I don't lose it.

The one person who may have caused me trouble was Virgil. As Jacob’s official second, and the brigadier for the biggest team working for the Rudenko organization, he stood to have his nose pushed out of joint the most.

However, he seemed to accept me slotting into an almost horizontal position of power next to him without much care. It could be because our roles are so different.

He and his brigadiers count on my men to provide them with smooth sailing in their endeavors. I remove any obstacles in their path.

Of course, I have my fingers in my own pies, which Jacob fully approves of. I have the clubs, and a few of them are entirely legitimate, while one or two, not so much. The ones that aren’t quite as legitimate are great fronts for laundering money from the weapons sales. I also have a shipment that I manage once a month, which goes to a very small European principality with very special and niche needs. These aren't ordinary, run-of-the-mill ex Soviet Union weapons that I’m procuring for those people, but the most modern and best the military has to offer. I procure them from a secret contact, and Jacob is more than happy for me to fulfil this contract as it's one he couldn't himself.

It works well for us all, but it’s a delicate balance, and I’m always aware that something could throw it off.

Adriana is already seated, and I stop in my tracks and take a moment to admire the view. Not the stunning view of the vineyards and rolling hills beyond the window, but the view of the woman sitting in front of the green vista.

She’s holding her hair up off her nape and letting it sift through her fingers before repeating the action. She's looking out the window so I can only see her profile, but I take my time to admire the long and graceful curve of her neck and the smooth lines of her jaw leading to her slightly pointed chin. I love the way her nose is upturned and cute as hell, and in juxtaposition to that cuteness are her high cheekbones and large eyes, along with the full lips.

She's delicate, like a fine porcelain vase. Her dark hair shines that blue-black under the lights beaming down from above her, and it contrasts so beautifully with her pale skin. In a world full of tanned women with various shades of blonde hair, she stands out as strikingly different. As I approach the table, she turns as if she can sense me. Her gaze darts up to meet mine, and I almost falter in my forward motion. There’s a directness in her gaze that speaks to true bravery. She’s my captive in many ways, and yet she regards me as if she’s my queen.

What is it about this woman that has me so in awe of her?

She offers me a small smile, unsure and nervous in contrast with the clear gaze. I get the impression that even outside of life-threatening situations, my Littleblue here is a dreadful people pleaser. She’s kind, you can tell that straight away, and that’s a strength in my opinion in an increasingly cruel world.

I take a seat opposite her and drink her in for a long moment, simply enjoying her radiance. She glances down at the table. I don’t want that. I want the directness of her gaze. I want to get to know something about her.

“Look at me,” I order.

Slowly, she lifts her gaze to meet mine. Her lashes are thick without much makeup, and with the coat of mascara she's clearly given herself, they look as long as some false lashes.

Is the mascara for me?

I like it.

“I thought we could have lunch here,” I say. “This winery also has an award-winning restaurant. It's a little late, but we can take our time and make an afternoon of it. They serve the most wonderful food on their tasting menu, and they bring various wines with the different courses for you to try. Would you like to share that with me?”

“I'd love it; thank you.” She smiles politely.

I'll take this studied politeness for now because at least we're talking, and she doesn't seem scared stiff. I want more than this. I don't want a polite veneer; I want the messy, authentic parts of her.

What is she like underneath her perfect exterior? I know what she's scared of, to a degree. Losing her autonomy and being taken against her will. Shocker.

I don't know what she loves, though. I don't know what excites her. For the first time in many years, I find myself deeply curious about another human being.

“So, what are your vices?” I ask her. “What do you blow your money on? Handbags? Starbucks cups? Hello Kitty collectables?”

She giggles at the last one and relaxes a notch.

“Books,” she says. “I spend most of it on books.”

My men told me that one of the things they found out about her was that her degree was in literature.

Maybe she’s a dreamer. Perhaps she wants to write a great novel. Or maybe she simply wants to read every book she can fit into a lifetime. If she were mine, I’d let her do nothing but read, if that made her happy. And fuck me on demand, of course.

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