Page 32 of Roman Petrov

He backs away, his arms raising. “No! I didn’t know?—”

I pull the trigger. The bullet hits between the eyes and he thumps to the floor. Nadia jumps, but I hold her tighter. Even as she tries to get out of my arms, I don’t let up.

And, right on time, the door opens and an unamused Rico strolls in. I grab the comforter and pull it over Nadia as he looks between me and the dead body. I shrug at him with a grin.

Turning us away, I release her and quickly grab her by both cheeks to stop her from looking behind. Fear dances in her eyes and it makes my cock twitch.

“What did I tell you, lastochka?”

She goes to speak, her bottom lip quivering.

I grab her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look at me. Maybe she does need to see the real monster I am. It makes no difference, she is never leaving me.

I let go and she turns her head and gasps. She tries to scramble off the bed in a panic, I hook my arms around her waist dragging her back to me. I glance over as my men are moving Vlad’s body out of the door. It slams shut behind them.

“He knew the rules, and he still wanted a taste. This is who I am and you are fucking mine.”

I lift her into my arms and take us into the shower, closing the door behind me.

14

NADIA

I’m afraid to leave my room.

But, I also toss and turn in my bed thinking of what he felt like.

This battle within me is all losers and no winners.

My husband is a really bad man. He killed someone because ofme.While I was in the room.

It makes me feel weird. Appalled, and turned on.

And, also intimidated. Would he hurt me? He hasn’t shown any signs, in fact, the complete opposite.

Hemurderedsomeone.

Yet, I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him more than ever. I need him to show me what he can do to me. He’s right. I had a taste of it and I am craving more.

My books don’t have the same appeal, not after I’ve experienced the real thing.

Reality is so much better than fiction. But, these stories keep the memories so vivid, I can’t stop reading them.

Why does this have to be this complicated? Is this really the life I want? A man who takes care of me, fucks me any way I beg, and kills for me?

God, when I frame it like that, he sounds perfect.

I just need some time to think. I have a big show coming up, and that’s where I should be focusing my efforts.

Not on how big his cock is.

Or, how good he felt when he fucked my ass. How many times did I get off? Three? Four?

A wave of heat smothers my cheeks. Did I really do that? I’ve always scoffed at it in the romance books. Never thought it could be real.

It should feel wrong, but there’s a part of me that craves more.

“So? You’ve been M.I.A. for days. What’s going on? Are you going to be ready for the show?” Rochelle’s raspy voice is a welcome distraction.

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