Page 28 of Sinful Betrayal

“If you don’t start proving yourself, I’ll put you on a plane back to Russia, Nina. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Please…”

“You’re not giving me much choice.”

“Dad—” My voice breaks as I think of the future I’d have if I didn’t have dance, and it’s not one I want to live.

“I expect a call tomorrow with an update.” He hangs up the phone.

I screw my eyes shut as tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

I never should have crossed the line last night with Anton because it’s only made things even more complicated now that emotions have gotten involved.

How can a man as attentive and kind as Anton be the monster my father painted him out to be?

I know monsters. My father is one, and so was Maxim.

From what I’ve seen of Anton Koslov, he couldn’t be more different from them.

And yet, he murdered my brother in cold blood, so he deserves to pay for his crimes.

Right?

8

ANTON

After Nina leaves,I head to my home gym to try and blow off some steam.

Seeing her this morning in those tight leggings had the blood pumping straight to my cock. Last night was even better than I imagined it would be, and I’m already craving more, which is exactly why I’m refraining from taking myself in my hand. I can’t afford to grow attached when I know it can’t go anywhere, and fantasizing about her won’t help either.

Which means hitting the gym to burn off all this pent-up frustration.

I spend a few hours in the gym, working up a solid sweat before heading upstairs to take a shower.

I pass Nina’s room on the way and glance inside.

The bed is unmade, and her clothes from yesterday lie discarded on the floor.

I eye the lilac skirt, remembering what it looked like bunched up around her tiny waist as I fucked her from behind?—

“Christ.” I slam the door closed.

Even when she’s not here, Nina still gets me all fired up.

“I need a fucking cold shower.” I stalk down the hall into my room, closing the door behind me to try and put as much distance between me and her skimpy clothes as possible.

As I head into my bathroom to turn the shower on, my phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts, and I pull it out to see a message from my cousin Mikhail telling me to meet him and his brothers at their penthouse in the city.

I’m grateful for the distraction it will provide, and I send a reply telling him I’ll be there in an hour, though I have no doubt that the conversation will be anything but light.

I drivedown into the private underground garage that belongs to the penthouse apartment, parking between Mikhail’s G Wagon and Alexei’s Mercedes.

The upper East Side penthouse is mostly used for business these days, with my four cousins having their own residences both in and out of the city. Though the three eldest brothers are choosing the latter more and more these days now that they have kids of their own.

I find my cousins in the lounge, each one of them with a drink in hand as they chat among themselves.

“Your favorite cousin has arrived.” I stroll out of the elevator.

---