Page 81 of Crown of Hate

Mikhail had a way of life before me, full of mafia shit and most definitely a long list of women. I know all this, but the thought of him with anyone else ignites a fierce, territorial rage.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I grit out, reaching for my drink. But the smell alone has bile creeping up my throat again.

What the hell is wrong with me?

The woman sneers, triumph gleaming in her eyes. She knows she’s hit a nerve, and she’s not about to let up. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet and you’re already green with envy.” She cocks her brows. “Face it, sweetheart. You’re too weak to be married to someone like Mikhail Zirkhov.”

Kira lets out an exasperated sigh next to me, ready to jump in, but I stop her with a raised hand.

“I can handle this myself,” I tell her.

As much as this woman’s words are meant to hurt me, she’s right about one thing. I can’t be married to Mikhail if I can’t even handle a bitch running her mouth. I’m a Zirkhov, and nobody intimidates me.

Standing to my feet and squaring my shoulders, I stare her down. “Look around you.”

Surprisingly, she straightens up and looks around. “What’s there to look at?”

“Everything in this place belongs to my husband. All I have to do is utter a single word and you’ll be tossed out on your ass.” I smirk and inch closer to her. “But I won’t, because you’re not worth wasting the time on.”

“You’re—”

“Whatever my husband did with you before he married me is none of my business. I don’t care if he used to fuck you with your legs hanging like the North Pole,” I say with a snarl. “If you need compensation, name your price. I’ll even throw you a tip.”

Her arrogant smile drops, replaced by a scowl. Good. I’m not usually one to get nasty, but her reaction makes it worth it. I’m not letting some woman walk all over me just because she wants my man.

She swallows hard and scoffs. Her lips part as if she wants to spit back a retort, but nothing comes out.

Hell yeah. I’ve shut her up.

I cross my arms, cocking my head. “Anything else you’d like to say to me?”

She hisses, snatches her purse, and storms off, heels clicking with each angry step.

I watch until she disappears into the sea of people on the dance floor, then sink back onto my stool with a long exhale.

Kira nudges me, grinning. “You handled that like a pro. You’ve got a talent for putting bitches in their place.”

“First time, actually. And I feel like shit about it.” I glance at her, annoyance bubbling up. “I shouldn’t have to do this. Your brother needs to get a grip on his ex-hookups, goddammit!”

She bobs her head in agreement. “Definitely. I’m going to give him an earful later.”

Suddenly, my eyes catch on a guy standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching me for several minutes now. He’s not as handsome as Mikhail, but he’s got that bad-boy charm. “I have a better idea.”

Kira’s eyes follow mine, and her jaw drops. “You’re not thinking of… No way. Mikhail will kill him,” she whispers.

“Considering his ex-hookup buddy just walked up to me and ruined my night, I don’t think he’ll mind me talking to this guy.” I slide my drink toward her. “Just wink at me when you see Mikhail, so I can pretend to be really into the conversation.”

“Flirting, you mean,” she argues, frowning. “Be careful. This could get dangerous.”

Ignoring her protests, I hop out of my stool and make my way over to the stranger before she can stop me.

The stranger leans out from the wall and smiles as I approach. He’s a brunette with a sharp jawline, blue eyes, and bushy brows. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” I return, trying to ignore how my toes are curling from awkwardness. “You’ve been staring at me.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says simply, his voice deep voice with an Irish lilt.

“Careful now.” I wiggle my fingers at him to show my diamond ring. “I’m a married woman, and my husband is the jealous type.”

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