Page 29 of Stalk Me

“Three.” His lips curve slightly. “Dimitri, Alexi and Erik.”

My brow furrows. “And they’re all coming to my gallery?”

“Yes.” He grabs my hand. “When the family is threatened, we respond.”

“I’m not family,” I point out.

His fingers tighten on mine. “You’re mine,malishka. It makes you as good as.”

The possessiveness in his voice should frighten me. Instead, it sends heat pooling low in my belly.

“Very presumptuous after a first date, Mr. Ivanov.”

His eyes arrest mine. “Once you experience one night with Daddy, you’ll never fucking leave.”

My breath catches. The crude words in his slightly accented, refined voice send liquid heat straight between my thighs. His thumb traces circles on my palm, and I can’t stop the small whimper that escapes.

“Your arrogance is remarkable.” My attempted derision dissolves into something far more revealing, each word carrying the tremor of desire.

“My instincts don’t lie.” His other hand bunches the hem of my dress. “I detect how you tremble when I touch you. How your pupils dilate when I give commands.” His fingers brush higher. “The way you’re soaking through these pretty panties right now, aren’t you,malishka?”

I squirm in the seat, torn between spreading my legs wider and clamping them shut. “We’re almost at the gallery.”

“That wasn’t an answer.” His voice drops lower, demanding.

“Yes,” I whisper, heat flooding my cheeks. “Yes, Daddy.”

His satisfied growl makes me clench with need. But before he can take things further, the car slows to a stop. I see the gallery’s familiar facade through the tinted windows, and reality crashes back.

“Time to deal with these idiots first.” Nikolai’s hand withdraws, leaving me aching. “Then we’ll continue this discussion.”

Several men in tactical gear hold down the intruders through the gallery’s glass doors. Their precision and efficiency speak of military training.

“Should we call the police?” I ask.

Every head turns to me with looks ranging from amusement to disbelief. Heat crawls up my neck as I realize how naive I sound.

“The law won’t be handling this situation,malishka.” Nikolai’s voice carries menace. “I will.”

The cold certainty in his tone hits me like ice water. This isn’t the charming dinner companion from earlier—this is the dangerous man I’d read rumors about in my research.

The screech of performance tires draws my attention. Three vehicles pull up in perfect formation—a sleek Aston Martin, a matte black Range Rover, and what looks like a heavily modified Dodge Challenger.

“My brothers,” Nikolai says just as three men emerge.

The first moves like a CEO, his Armani suit probably worth more than my typical monthly revenue. His ice-blue eyes assess everything with calculating precision.

“Dmitri,” he introduces himself with a devastating smile that doesn’t reach those cold eyes.

The second brother practically bounces out of the Challenger, all restless energy and boyish features that barely mask something wild beneath. “Alexi,” he says, pulling out a tablet.

The last moves like a predator, his military bearing obvious in every step. He doesn’t speak, just nods once.

“That’s Erik,” Nikolai explains. “He’s not much for words.”

Standing together, the four brothers radiate power and danger. Each is different but appears equally lethal. What have I gotten involved with?

“Now,” Nikolai’s hand settles on my lower back, “let’s discuss what to do with these idiots who dared to cross me.”

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