Page 35 of Bound By Revenge

He steps back, his smirk curling into something more sinister. “Good.”

I stare at him, my chest tight, my throat dry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say.

Before I can try, a sudden noise at the kitchen door cuts through the tension, startling me. Nik grabs me just as I'm about to leap from the counter, shielding me with his body.

A split second later, I realize it was just someone clearing their throat.One of his men. It totally slipped my mind that we aren’t completely alone. It’s only then that I realize just how exposed I am, still perched on the counter in nothing but Nik’s shirt.

Nik doesn’t even look at his man. His eyes stay locked on mine, cold and unyielding, until the silence becomes unbearable.

“What is it?” he barks without turning around. He's blocking my view, so I can't see who’s interrupted us.

A male voice says, “Nikolai. Lucien’s here to see you.”

Nik briefly shuts his eyes. He takes a deep breath and opens them again. A cold, hard look flickers in his eyes as he studies me.

“I'll be with him in a minute," Nik tells the man.

“Sir," the man says respectfully. His footsteps echo as he leaves the kitchen.

Nik shuts his eyes again, muttering something in Russian. A moment passes, followed by a sigh from him. He lifts me off the counter and sets me down gently.

Before I can say anything, he walks away.

Chapter 16

Kat

A woman needsa man like a fish needs a bicycle.

That’s the mantra I cling to as I toss and turn, staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come.

Shocker: It doesn’t.

I’ve tried it all—counting sheep (they ran away), meditating (all it did was remind me how annoyed I am), and a bath (lukewarm water isn’t as soothing as people claim). But no amount of effort or pretending I’m calm can erase his smug voice.

“This is how it’s going to be now. You work for me. You follow my rules. My orders. No more games. You do what I say, when I say it, without question.”

It’s the eternal mystery of the universe: why do bad things happen to good people?

I sit up with a frustrated groan, shoving the covers off.

Who needs him? Not me.

If he hates me, I hate him right back. He’s patronizing, infuriating, and, even worse, annoyingly hot—even when he berates me like a child.

I glance at the clock. Past midnight. Great. Tomorrow—well, technically, today—I’m going to have to face him again. Sleep-deprived and fuming.

Unless...

Whenever I get restless like this, there’s only one thing that can take the edge off.

A big, fat glass of wine.

Sure, I’d risk running into Nik, and I’d rather eat glass than have to deal with him in the middle of the night. But hey, no risk, no reward.

So I head to the kitchen, moving as quietly as possible. The penthouse is silent—eerily so—with nothing but the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the massive windows. For all its size and luxury, it feels cold and empty at night, like no one really lives here.

I find the bottle Nik opened at dinner without trouble and pour myself a very generous glass. The wine tastes as smooth and expensive as I remember.

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