Page 65 of Mafia King's Bride

Dmitri makes a noncommittal “Mm” sound, but he’s staring at my lips like they hold the secrets of the universe. I’m pretty sure I could tell him I’ve decided to join the circus, and he wouldn’t hear a word.

His thumb caresses my cheek, and suddenly, we’re in a rom-com. He kisses me like he’s a man starved and I’m a five-course meal. When his hand grabs my ass, I can’t help but grind against him.

“You missed me,” he says, smug as a cat with a canary.

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head,” I reply. “Though it seems something already has.”

He pulls me closer, and I’m suddenly very aware of every inch of him. “Two options,” he purrs in my ear. “Dinner then bed, or bed then...more bed.”

I give him my best sultry look, which probably makes me look like I’m having an allergy attack. “Are you on the menu?”

His smile is pure sin. “Let’s find out.”

Before I can unleash my wit, I’m suddenly airborne, tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He spanks me with every step, and I’m torn between indignation and arousal. By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m a mess of hormones and anticipation.

He drops me on the bed and looms over me. “You’re what’s on the menu tonight, Mrs. Anastasia Orlov.”

I like the sound of that.

TWENTY-FOUR

DMITRI

I sense Viktor Petrov’s arrival before Jakob announces him. His presence carries weight, a formidable energy I’ve rarely encountered. I’ve been anticipating this meeting, curious to see what kind of man Ana’s brother is.

“Let him in,” I command, my voice cool and controlled.

Viktor enters, his stride purposeful and confident. He carries himself with the assurance of a man who’s seen the world and faced its challenges. I find myself reassessing my initial assumptions. This is no mere boy playing at being a protector.

“You’re Dmitri Orlov,” he states, his voice firm and unwavering.

I nod, gesturing to a chair. “And you’re my wife’s brother. Please, sit.”

He takes the seat, his posture relaxed yet alert. Our eyes lock, and I’m met with a gaze as steely and determined as my own. Interesting. Most men falter under my scrutiny, but Viktor holds firm.

I break the silence. “I’m certain you didn’t come here for a social call. “It’s about Ana, yes?”

Viktor nods, his words measured and direct as he expresses his concerns. He speaks of family, loyalty, and protectionwith a conviction that’s almost admirable. I listen, grudgingly impressed by his composure and clarity of thought.

“You care for her deeply,” I observe, my tone neutral. “That’s commendable. But you should know, Ana is not just a Petrov anymore. She’s an Orlov now, my wife.”

Viktor’s eyes narrow. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? Your reputation precedes you, Orlov. I need to know she’s safe and happy.”

I lean forward, matching his intensity. “Then perhaps you should see for yourself. Ana invited you to stay with us, did she not?”

A flicker of surprise crosses his face, quickly replaced by determination. “Yes, she did. And I think I’ll take her up on that offer.”

I nod, a small smile playing at my lips. “Good. You’re welcome in our home. See how Ana lives now, judge for yourself.”

As Viktor leaves, I find myself reassessing the situation. He’s not the naive idealist I expected, but a worthy adversary—or potential ally. Either way, his presence adds an intriguing element to the game.

I watchAna greet her brother with unbridled joy, a rare display of emotion in this house. Viktor’s presence brings a light to her eyes I’ve rarely seen. It’s intriguing.

“Her half-brother?” Yelena asks, her tone laced with curiosity.

“Yes,” I confirm, my eyes never leaving the pair.

Yelena’s gaze sharpens. “And you’re okay with this?”

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