Page 3 of Bound By Revenge

Unless we strike first.

The diamond will buy us time to uncover thestronzo’s secret and plot out how to give him a taste of his own medicine. I have no problem blackmailing the bastard who’s making my life a living hell.

Inch by inch, I move closer to the alleyway, the sound of laughter and music growing louder with each step.

The dance floor stands as the last obstacle in my path, and I slip on a mask of boredom as I move through the crowd. As I unhurriedly stroll past an empty table, I set down mychampagne flute. It served its purpose as a prop and source of much-needed courage.

Almost home free. I sweep the crowd with a glance again—just in case.

Paranoia compels me to scan my surroundings one last time, but nobody seems to be watching me as I take the last steps toward the exit.

And that’s when I walk right into the arms of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

Chapter 2

Nik

I can’t stop staringat the woman in the dangerously distracting dark velvet dress.

Sipping my whiskey, I try to concentrate on the museum director’s speech, but it’s pointless. My gaze drifts to her again and again, as if irresistibly drawn by gravity’s pull.

That dress should be illegal.

And I know a thing or two about illegal things.

As she glances around hall admiring the decorations, I admire her. Her dark hair, artfully piled atop her head, temptingly exposes her neck. I wonder what she smells like.

She turns around, scanning the room, and I choke on my drink.

Mercy.

I struggle to suppress my cough—her dress is backless.

My gaze drops to her feet, caught by the flash of red beneath the hem of her dress. I don’t usually give a damn about women’s fashion, but those shoes—Louboutins, of course—grab my attention and don’t let go. All I can think about is her wearing nothing else, the delicate heels digging into my back as I fuck her senseless. The straps wind around her ankles like bindings, taunting me, daring me to come closer.

Crystal chandeliers bathe her in their soft glow, and I can’t help but imagine what it’d feel like to run my fingers over that beautiful, mesmerizing stretch of skin.

I try to catch her eye, but she’s lost in thought. She doesn’t notice me at all, which makes me smile.

The most influential people in the country are here tonight. There isn’t much they wouldn’t say or do for a few moments of my time. But this hypnotic woman doesn’t seem to know who I am. She certainly doesn’t realize she has my undivided attention.

Her careless indifference doesn’t concern me in the slightest. I know how to get what I want. One does not rise from the direst, most hopeless parts of Russia to reach the highest rank of thebratvaby being shy.

Over the years, I’ve been many things. Most of them are, frankly, no good. I’m not ashamed to admit it. Unsure of myself, however, isn’t one of them.

I’ve never been afraid of a challenge. To be honest, it’d be a nice change from the wide-eyed, yes-sir girls I meet too often nowadays.

Truthfully, since theForbes 400list came out a few months ago, I’ve grown increasingly bored with the women in my life. It’s been too long since I’ve come across one so refreshingly uninterested in me.

It doesn’t hurt that her eyes shine brighter than the Flame of Mir under the dim glow of the overhead lights. Are they dark brown or deep blue? I can’t tell from this far away.

Before the night ends, this woman will be mine.

Any other outcome is unacceptable. Unthinkable.

Enjoying my drink, I lean against the wall, plotting my strategy carefully. The director's speech will be over soon. I’ll introduce myself then.

I only half-listen as the man almost reverently describes everything he believes makes my most treasured possession, the Flame of Mir, so special.

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