Page 50 of Dancing With Desire

“More money, a bigger cut of everything owned by Vivian, and contacts. I can let you expand into London. More weapons, more drugs, more access.”

“What do you want in return?” asks Akim.

“Your support. My father and Vivian will pay for what they’ve done to Victoria. In his place, I will stand. I need your backing.” There’s a tense pause while they exchange curious glances with one another. I’m asking a lot. They could pull a gun on me right now and take me out, choosing to back my father.

“I trust you have figures for all these businesses?” asks Matvey.

I nod. “I will have Marshall deliver them to you tonight.”

“Are you ready to lead our families?” asks Arkadi, shaking his head. “You’re not experienced enough in our ways. You ran off to London at the first opportunity.”

“I was building our future,” I correct. “We needed London, and I got it. Now, I’m offering it to you. I am ready to step up. I have a wife in place, a child on the way . . . I will deliver what my father could never.”

The men exchange wary looks. “We’ll discuss this after we’ve seen the figures,” says Aleksandr. “Tomorrow.”

I give a nod and head for the door. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

Victoria practically rushes at me the second she spots me. I give her a reassuring smile and take her hand. “We should get some rest,” I say, offering a smile to the women as we leave. “Goodnight.”

TORI

Ilie on the sunbed, enjoying the sun warming my bikini-clad body, with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calming my nervous disposition. Last night went without a hitch, but being in the presence of the families brings this underlying anxiety, and I honestly can’t wait to get back to London.

Poppy sent through some pictures this morning, and she truly seems settled. In every selfie, she is smiling so wide, and it’s a stark reminder that I haven’t seen it for so long.

Placing my hand against my stomach, I smile, feeling a slight fluttering which I’m pretty certain is an early sign of movement. It gives me a fresh wave of hope that everything I am doing isgoing in the right direction and that our little one is growing strong, just like I’d prayed.

A shadow casts over me, and I look up, gazing into Dmitry’s eyes. His eyes roam my body, landing where my hands are still resting on my small bump. He perches himself on the edge of my sunbed and places his hand over mine.

“I think she’s moving,” I whisper.

“You mean he?” he teases playfully.

I roll my eyes, smirking. “What will you do if it’s a miniature version of me?” He arches an eyebrow and leans in, placing a tender kiss on my lips.

“Then she will be the strongest motherfucker out there and she won’t let any man control her,” he replies as his lips linger a breath away from my own.

“You’d better believe it,” I reply, grinning. She’ll be raised to be strong and independent, and she’ll definitely never fear any man.

He sighs, sitting straighter and caressing my stomach thoughtfully. He looks troubled, an expression that hasn’t left him since last night’s meal. “Everything okay?”

“I wish I could stay here with you all day, but the families have called another meeting to discuss the figures.” He runs a hand through his hair, and I notice it’s more dishevelled than usual, proving he’s more worried than he wants me to believe. “I don’t want to subject you to more stress by taking you along, so I’ve arranged for you to visit a very popular boutique in the hope you can perhaps choose a wedding dress. It’s extremely popular and very hard to book an appointment with a lead designer there, but I called in a favour.”

My heart swells at his uncertain expression. How can I be mad when he’s being so thoughtful? “Thank you,” I whisper, grabbing hold of his hand and resting it against my cheek.“I appreciate that so much. I don’t think I can take being surrounded by women who really don’t want me there.”

“Anything for my queen,” he replies, kissing the palm of my hand. “I promise they will accept you, and you’re the one they’ll turn to?—”

“I don’t need their acceptance,” I tell him honestly. “As long as I have you and this little one,” I add, placing his hand back on my stomach, “that’s all I need.”

Dmitry stands, bending to place a gentle kiss on my head. “Marshall will take you, and I’ll see you later.”

As he walks away, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look his usual confident self, and I frown. “Dmitry?” He turns back to look at me. “Everything will be okay, right?”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he nods. “Of course. I love you, mykrasota.”

Marshall is justas quiet on the drive to the boutique. Eventually, I huff so loud that his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “What?” he asks.

“Why do you and Dmitry look so . . . thoughtful?”

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