Page 8 of Mafia King's Bride

Dmitri.

He appears at the top of the stairs, stepping out of the shadows of the second floor. The gray T-shirt he’s wearing stretches across his chest, showing off the hard muscles beneath, and the black sweatpants hang just low enough to hint at the strong lines of his body. It should be illegal for a man like him to look this good. It’s almost comical, really, how the universe saw fit to give him both power and the body of a Greek god.

“Ana,” his deep voice cuts through my thoughts as he approaches, and I freeze on the stairs.

I take my time replying, dreading what this encounter will bring. “Yes?”

He’s standing just a few steps away, too close for comfort, and I can’t help but notice how the air seems heavier when he’s nearby. “Do you have a moment?”

It is a question, but it’s more of a command, really.

And what could we possibly have to talk about?

I shake my head. “No. And I doubt there’s anything we need to discuss unless it involves making my life more miserable.”

Without waiting for his response, I move around him and head up the stairs, trying to escape. I hear his footsteps behind me. I bolt to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” I mutter, flopping onto my bed. My body feels like dead weight, drained from the day, fromthis—all of this. The migraine that’s been brewing at the edge of my skull throbs, and I rub my temples, trying to push away the exhaustion and frustration.

How the hell have I created this shit in my life? And how do I uncreate it?

There’s a knock on my door.

Seriously?

“Ana?” Dmitri’s voice is on the other side of the door. “I waited for you all evening. Why didn’t you call and tell me you’d be late?”

What now?

I sit up, frowning, disbelief etching across my face. He waited for me? That can’t be right. But before I can process the thought, he keeps talking.

“You should know better than to stay out late like that.”

I storm across the room and throw the door open, glaring up at him. “Why are you butting into my business?”

Dmitri’s eyes darken with annoyance. “Your business? Your safetyismy business. There are people out there who wouldn’t hesitate to use you to get to me.”

“And whose fault is that?” I snap, taking a step forward, fury bubbling inside me. “I didn’t ask to be included in your life, Dmitri. Before you, I never had to worry about being snatched up on the way home. So, don’t put that on me. If you think I’m at risk, find a way to protect me.Without me noticing.”

I turn to walk away, but his hand closes around my wrist, and before I can pull free, he yanks me into the hallway. His other hand presses against the wall beside my head, caging me in, his body towering over mine.

His eyes meet mine, and they burn with something intense, something I can’t name but feel in the pit of my stomach. It makes my pulse race.

“You like to play games, don’t you,kotyonok?” His voice is a rumble, washing over my skin like a warm shower at the end of a long day.

“Don’t call me that,” I spit, lifting my chin in defiance. “I’m not your kitten. I’m nothing to you but the girl you bullied into taking your last name.”

He lets out a dark laugh, the sound causing goosebumps to pop over my arms. His hand, large and warm, brushes over my cheek, and I hate that my body reacts, a flutter of something unwelcome blooming in my chest.

“Bullied?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the edge of my lip. “I gave your father a choice. Marriage or death. He chose to give you to me rather than pay the price himself.”

The rage that fills me is sudden and blinding. How dare he speak about my father like that?

“So, what’s in it for you?” I hiss, glaring up at him. “What doyouget out of this?”

“Influence. Power. Revenge.” His smirk is cold, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“My father is a better man than you’ll ever be.”

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