Page 9 of Mafia King's Bride

His smirk only deepens. “Is that why you bend the law for him?”

“None ofyourbusiness.”

“But it is,” he says, voice soft but menacing. “You’re mine now, Ana, and everything you do reflects on me. That’s why I want you to stop working.”

The words slam into me like a punch, and I blink, not sure I heard him right. “Youwhat?”

“You heard me. Quit your job.”

I laugh bitterly, stepping away from him, folding my arms. “You have some nerve. What’s next? Are you going to lock me in this mansion and parade me around like a trophy at your parties?”

He doesn’t flinch. “I might.”

I could burn a hole through his head with the look I give him. “I’m not quitting my job, Dmitri. Do your worst.”

“You will,” he says, his voice lowering, “or you’ll work for me. Exclusively.”

I stare at him, incredulous. His arrogance is truly astounding. He actually believes the world revolves around him.

Mirthless laughter bubbles out of me, and I shake my head. “You’re delusional, Dmitri. I’m Anastasia Petrov, and I don’t give a damn what you want. Go ahead and try to make me quit. I dare you.”

For a moment, he just stands there, staring at me like he’s assessing whether or not I’m serious. Then, without a word, he steps back. I take the opportunity to wrench open the door and slip back inside, slamming it behind me.

As I press my back against the door, the adrenaline starts to fade, and my heart pounds like I’ve just run a marathon.

“Holy mackerel,” I breathe, trying to steady myself.

I’m not usually one for confrontation, but there’s something about Dmitri that makes my blood boil. The words I hurled at him felt good. They weren’t rehearsed, they weren’t planned—they just came out, and in that moment, I felt powerful.

I smile to myself as I head for the bathroom. The image of Dmitri’s face when I stormed off is burned into my mind, and I know it’ll be a long time before he forgets it.

Feeling victorious, I soak in the bath, letting the tension drain from my body. But as I finally crawl into bed, Dmitri’s words from our first argument creep into my mind. His threat. His promise to make my father pay if I cross him.

If he ever touches my father, I’ll never forgive him.

And I’ll make sure Dmitri pays for it in ways he never sees coming.

FOUR

DMITRI

I head down the hallway from the conference room, just having concluded a meeting with other members of the Bratva who’ve come to pledge their allegiance and support to the Orlov enterprise.

Some of them, like Alexey, didn’t seem so willing, but I could tell theyknewthey didn’t have a choice. I didn’t give them one.

And they don’t deserve it, either, because many of them have forgotten what they did to my family after my father died.

Nikolai Petrov might have committed the biggest betrayal, but the others aren’t blameless. They all tried to take a piece of what’s mine, coming through side channels because they thought I was too wrapped up in grief to notice.

I suppose, in some way, I have to thank Nikolai for being so bold in his claim. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t have gained the upper hand I now enjoy. Even though his daughter tests my patience every single day and I have to summon every shred of self-control I have when I’m around her.

She’s an expert at getting under my skin. It’s a damn shame that a woman that gorgeous, with eyes that look like a sunny day and wild curls that tempt a man, would come with a fierce personality like that.

“Sir,” Jakob stops me as I near my office door, “I couldn’t stop her. She was going to make a scene, and I know how much you hate that, so I… I let her come through.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“Miss Bianchi.”

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