Page 3 of Dublin Devil

It’s a contract binding me to an arranged marriage with Vladmir Volkov. And it’s signed by my father.

He’s lost his mind.

My stomach rolls and there’s a good chance I’m about to throw up on my pervy Russian fiancé. I can’t believe my father would do this to me.

He said he finally saw me as an asset to the family business. I thought he meant he saw my value as a contributor—he meant my value as a commodity.

Tears burn behind my eyes. I looked up to him. I waited for a chance to show him what I could do. What kind of man does this to his daughter? Does my mother know I’m part of the gun deal?

I don’t want to fail my family, but I’m not marrying Vladmir, and I’m not having sex with two Russian brutes.

“Guns or no guns, I’m not for sale. My father should never have promised me as part of the deal. You need to let me go right now.”

Vladimir chuckles, a cruel smile twisting his ugly face. “No play game. You are mine. I have papers. Come, we have father’s vodka to celebrate.”

Vladmir moves to go back into the suite and Arkady tightens his iron grip on me to drag me back as well. He has my arms bound, but not my feet.

I lift my hips, plant my feet against the wall and push backward with all my strength. He grunts as we go over backward and curses in Russian when we crash through the glass table and onto the floor.

The table and the vase shatter. Then the two of us are twisting on the marble floor, wrestling in broken glass and orchids.

And myphone.

I grab my cell in one hand and a large shard of the vase in the other. Wheeling back, I use all the strength I can and ram it into Arkady’s thigh. With any luck, I hit his femoral artery.

He curses and kicks me into the back of the door. The hit dazes me. It may have even knocked me out because the next thing I know, Vladmir is helping Arkady up and they turn toward me.

I scramble to my feet, my legs shaky and my vision blinking in and out. With a hand on the wall, I run for the stairwell, my sights locked on the metal door.

“Come back, little wolf.” Vladmir shouts from behind me and I throw a quick glance back to find him chasing me down.

Arkady is leaning on the doorway to the suite, a growing patch of blood staining his right pant leg.

Good. I hope he bleeds out.

“You are mine,” Vlad shouts at me. “I have papers.”

“Fuck your papers.” I burst through the metal door to the stairwell and grab the rail, racing down as fast as my bare feet can take me.

Vladmir is right behind me, and I know I’ll never make it down three more flights without him catching me, so I grab the door to the fourth floor and change course.

I could bang on doors and yell for help. He wouldn’t make a scene with other guests, would he? I’m about to find out. There’s a group of people waiting for the lift, and I squeeze in the moment the doors open.

The tourists look alarmed when they see me, but I don’t have time to worry about it. “Get in! Get in! Hurry.”

Pressed at the back of the elevator car, I stare at the corridor and hold my breath as the guests get in and press the button for the lobby.

Vladimir doesn’t appear. Instead of that making things better, it just freaks me out more.

Maybe he doesn’t want to make a scene.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrors, and it’s not good. Between the fall, the glass, and getting kicked into the door, I look as beaten up as I feel.

“Are you okay, miss?” a guy asks me. “Do you need us to call someone for you? The police? Or a friend or someone?”

I hold up my phone. “I’ll call my brother. Thanks though.”

With the people in the elevator politely trying not to stare, I hold it together the best I can. When the doors open on the main floor, I scan the lobby as the elevator unloads, and then I head for the nearest exit.

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