Page 15 of Defiled Innocence

I have no doubt he means exactly what he says.

Christian brings my coat and purse. “I put your phone in your purse.” He hands it to me.

“Thank you.” I smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

He swallows and nods, giving Dmitri only a passing glance.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He holds the door while Dmitri pulls the jacket from my grasp.

“It’s chilly outside.” He holds the coat open for me. I want to argue, to tell him I’m perfectly capable of putting on my own jacket, but Christian looks like he’d like us out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

After I give in and slide my arms into the sleeves, he spins me around and works the buttons closed.

“I can do that,” I grind out softly.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” He finishes the last button at the top. “Let’s go.”

Without another word to Christian, Dmitri laces our hands together and tugs me from the apartment and into the hall. As soon as we’re clear of the door, it shuts, and I can hear the distinct sounds of the bolt being slid in place.

“My car is here,” I say when we get into the elevator. “If you’ll tell me where we’re going, I can meet you there.”

He hits the button for the lobby then stands beside me, his hands clasped in front of him.

“You’ll drive with me. I’ll have your car brought later.”

“Fine.” I watch the lights flicker as we slide down the fifteen floors to the lobby. Arguing with him doesn’t feel like the right move right now. There’s a lot of aggressive energy rolling off of him.

“You disobeyed me, Amelia,” he says, cutting through the silence.

I could tell him he’s wrong. That I’m a grown woman and I don’t have to do anything he tells me to do, but he picks up my hand and laces his fingers through mine again as the doors sweep open.

He pulls me through the lobby like some errant child being dragged out of a store for having a fit. There’s an older couple walking into the building. The woman gets one look at Dmitri and gives me a pitying glance.

“You’re not taking me to dinner anymore, are you?” I ask as he brings me to his car. No, not a car. A Bentley Bentayga EWB. It stands out against the other cars on the street with its sleek lines and smooth black finish. The diamond-patterned front grille practically shines with the headlights on. Everything about this screams rich and powerful. Perfect for a man like Dmitri.

He yanks the passenger door open and gestures for me to get inside.

“I’m not going with you until you tell me where we’re going.”

His dark eyebrow arches higher, like he can’t believe me.

I can’t believe me either. A Russian mobster has just made claim to me, threatened to cut off a man’s hands for touching me, and now I’m about to climb into his car.

A car that costs more than what I make in a year.

He stares at me, like he can outwait me. But I get the feeling that the longer I take to get in the car, the worse the evening is going to go.

“Are you taking me to dinner?” I ask, stubbornly holding my ground.

“No.”

A single word again.

“Are you taking me to my apartment?”

“No.”

My stomach flutters.

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