Page 82 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

Vitali’s eyes leave the back of the stranger’s head and clash with mine before returning to its target. “Not now, love.” He pushes the gun deeper into the man’s head and whispers so calmly that it almost makes me nervous. Almost. “Leave now with your life and thank your God there are witnesses here and I don’t particularly want to spend a night in a jail cell and away from her.”

Thump.

Thump.

My sick heart swoons while witnessing his type of violence. My core also clenches as Vitali holds my gaze captive. I should not be turned on by this type of savagery.

A moment passes and I don’t even notice when he releases the mumbling idiot.

“I had it handled,” I tell him, loving the murderous look on his face.

It does crazy things to my heart seeing him lose control like that.

“If anyone so much as looks at you wrong in my presence, Kadra Parisi. They will pay for it with their life. I don’t care if you can handle them or not. Da?”

He grabs my waist and pulls me to his side, my skin burns where his large hand wraps around my hip then without saying another word he guides me inside the restaurant while holding onto me a little too tight.

I can’t help but smile a secret smile.

The Neanderthal.

* * *

“Bueno verlo por acá señor Solonik,” The same woman who approached me outside the restaurant, Graciela, greets Vitali as soon as we sit down at our table. The feeling of jealousy I felt before creeps in again as I watch the beautiful woman with the friendly smile basically shoving her breast in Vitali’s face. Trying to contain the sudden need to reach inside my purse for my knife, I flip open the menu and go through it trying to block them out but failing miserably.

Damn you, Russian.

I am not this woman.

I am not petty nor do I envy anyone.

I try focusing on the menu and looking over the options. The plates look extremely good. Lately every place I go there’s no culture or authentic taste. Here’s to hoping this place is different.

Vitali and the waitress interacted for about a minute too long before I had it. Clearing my throat, I place the menu down onto the table and turn my gaze to the overly friendly waitress. “I’d like a lime margarita.” I interrupt, then raise an eyebrow at Vitali in question.

As if he read my mind he does a shit job of hiding a grin before he too sets down the menu and asks for a glass of vodka.

“Just the drinks?” The bubbly waitress asks while jotting something down on her notepad.

“Si, Graciela. Eso es todo por ahora.” Vitali speaks in perfect Spanish and I still catch hints of his Russian accent. Is there anything he can’t do?

Graciela clears her throat uncomfortably before she tells us she’ll be back with our drinks and leaves.

“I’m flattered, love.” Vitali muses while leaning back in his seat.

Oh, here we go.

Sighing, I give him a dull look trying to mask the fact that the man just got what he wanted. I’m jealous. Fine, I admit it. But while that might be true I would rather cut my tongue out with the table knife to my right than to admit it to him. Not when he looks five seconds away from gloating. Nope.

“You’re jealous,” he smiles, those gray eyes shining under the dim light above us.

I scoff. “You think too highly of yourself, Solonik.” I play with the napkin on my plate, acting as if I could care less what he thinks. Lifting my gaze, we locked eyes.

“I do, baby but so do you admit it. You’re jealous.” The smile that makes my heartbeat race widens and it takes a lot to not hold my hand against my chest and tap the organ and order it to settle down.

“I’m not jealous.” I huff. Not knowing who I’m trying to convince me or him.

“Okay,” he agrees, not at all sounding convinced.

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