Page 56 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

When Nik wasn’t dragging me into dark corners to fuck me senseless, the customers tipped well—surprisingly well, considering they were Wall Street types who assumed money could buy anything, even people. But at least they weren’t as handsy as you’d expect, probably out of fear of Nik. That was one perk of being his girl, I guess. It gave me just enough room to breathe while I silently counted every dollar, inching closer to freedom with every shift. So that me and him had a real chance in hell together, not this pretend shit we were doing now.

A soft knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. My heart jumps to my throat, half-expecting it to be Nikolai, but it’s not. When I open the door, I’m met with Mary, Nik’s maid—a woman in her late fifties with kind eyes, bright red hair and a politeness that is in direct opposition to Nana which only makes me miss her more. She offers me a small, tight-lipped smile and a hot pink box with a large sage green bow on it in her hands.

“Ms. Gwen,” she greets politely, stepping further into the room. “Mr. Petrov asked me to bring this to you.”

I blink at the box, my annoyance and reluctantly my excitement spiking. “What is it?”

She carefully places the box on the bed, her hands smoothing over the satin ribbon before stepping back. “It’s an outfit he’s chosen for you for tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows along with a note.

Of course, it was. Typical Nik, always trying to control everything, including what I wore. I already feel my temper rising, my jaw clenching as I move to open the box.

I gently remove the neatly folded note from the box and set it aside on my bed before finally looking at the dress inside. My breath catches in my throat as I take it all in. The gown is a stunning creation, floor-length and black with subtle sparkles that catch the light perfectly. The material is sleek, elegant, and undoubtedly expensive - the kind of dress you'd see on a red carpet.

As my fingers brush against the soft fabric, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. It reminds me of the dress I wore on our first date - the one that drove Nik wild all night long. I can feel his heated gaze once again as my hand traces the same slit that he couldn't keep his eyes off of. He knows exactlywhat he's doing by choosing this dress for me. I take a deep breath placing the dress back in the box, and turning my attention back to the note.

I snatch it up,unfolding the paper with an aggravated flick of my wrist.

Get dressed, Kotik. We have plans for you to be in my bed tonight. Don’t keep me waiting.

I crumpled the note in my fist, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Nik’s bossiness was infuriating, as much as his knack for romantic charm. It was like every time I thought he was the most romantic guy in the world, he tried to exact power over me and show that he had the upper hand. What Nik didn’t know is that his romantic gesture was so telling of how much I drove him wild.

Mary clears her throat, clearly sensing the tension as a devious smile spreads across my lips. “If you need any assistance, Ms. Sharp?—”

“I don’t,” I cut her off, my tone sharper than I intended. She sighs sharply, and I feel a twinge of guilt, but I quickly brush it aside with a large smile on my face as I turn to her. “Tell Mr. Petrov I will be ready in an hour. I am going to knock his socks off.”

A brighter smile crosses Mary’s face, and I pity the admiration dancing in her eyes. She doesn’t know that I intend to bring Nik to his knees tonight. If he wants me to look good for him, I will look drop dead fucking gorgeous.

29

NIKOLAI

Istand at the base of the grand staircase, dim lighting casting shadows that stretch like dark tendrils across the marble floor. My hands are shoved in my pockets, fingers tapping rhythmically against my thigh as I wait for her. The anticipation is a slow burn in my veins, simmering into something darker, something primal.

Tonight is not just a date—it’s a battlefield, and I plan on winning. When Gwen descends those stairs, she walks right into my trap. I see how she pushes my buttons, testing the limits of my patience. But tonight, I remind her exactly who she belongs to. By the end of this night, she’ll be begging for me, her every defense shattered. She will be putty in my hands, an obedient little sub on her knees for me.

The sound of Gwen’s heels clicking against the marble stairs pulls my attention. My breath catches in my throat as I take in her appearance, and I curse myself for ever buying her that dress.

She glides down the stairs with the grace of a queen walking to her throne, each step a promise of the night ahead. I can’t help but mutter, “???? ??????, ??? ????????? ???????????” under my breath, the Russian curse spilling from my lips as I take in the sight of her.

She is a vision—a dangerous one. The inky black gown drapes and clings to her every curve like a second skin, as if it were tailor-made by the devil himself. A daring slit slices up to her hip, teasing with just enough skin to leave one’s imagination running wild. My imagination is running wild; it almost looks like she isn’t wearing anything underneath. The idea of that alone makes my blood heat.

Her lips are painted a deep, sinful red, drawing attention to their fullness and inviting the gaze of all who see her. The smoky darkness of her eyes only adds to the mystery and allure of her presence. Her curls are styled with precision, each strand falling perfectly into place to frame her face in wild, soft tendrils. She exudes an air of power and confidence, like the queen of death—here to drag me to my grave, and I’d willingly go.

I’m so caught up in taking her in that I almost miss the sly smile curving on her lips. “Pick your jaw up off the ground, Nik,” she says, her tone laced with a teasing edge.

I shake my head, trying to regain my composure. “You’re killing me, you know that?” I reply, my voice smooth but laced with a hunger I can’t hide. “You look so beautiful, I don’t even want to take you outside. No one should see how good you look but me.”

I can’t help but curse again, this time louder and more fervently. “???????, ?????, ??? ????????? ???????,” I mutter, the curse heavy with my desire. As she slides her handinto my open palm, my thoughts teeter between getting her out of that dress right now and remembering we have reservations.

Her grin widens as she twirls effortlessly, giving me a full view of the dress—if you can even call it that. A dress with a slit that high should not also be backless. It is fucking criminal, revealing so much skin I feel my control slipping. “??? ?? ?? ???? ???????,” I mutter, this time louder and more fervently, the curse heavy with my desire.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in even closer. “What does that mean, Nik?” she asks, her breath warm against my ear.

Her giggle is like a sweet poison, intoxicating and maddening all at once. What I said roughly translates to ‘What are you doing to me, Kotik,’ but instead of telling her the exact translation, I lean in closer, placing both of my hands on her hips and whispering against her lips.

“It means,” I murmur, my voice a low growl, “that you’re driving me out of my mind. You look so fucking irresistible I can barely keep my hands off you.”

Her lips curl into a sultry smile. “Well, that’s exactly the effect I was going for.” She trails a teasing finger down my chest, her touch electric.

---