“How did my brother ever get involved with you in the first place?”
I stare at her a moment, taking in the innocent beauty. She grew the Moreau Foundation from the ground up while in college. In the last two years since graduating, she’s made the center a pivotal part of the community. She has no doubt seen some horrible things dealing with the people she helps.
But none of it compares to the world I grew up in. She may think she understands the world, but in truth, she’s an innocent babe.
“Your father.” I hit the gas, propelling us through the intersection.
“My dad?”
“I did business with him once, and I met your brother through that.”
“Dad was an Alderman. Is that how? Dad was corrupt?” She twists in her seat to ask her question.
I raise a brow. “All politicians are corrupt.”
“And Lucas?” She pauses. “You know, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Your brother was a good man, Amelia. He was not like your father,” I say, but don’t push her further. There are some things she doesn’t need to know. Lucas went to great lengths to protect her. I won’t undo that now.
“You don’t think my father was a good man?” she asks, but I can hear the sarcasm lacing the words together. “He always seemed like a loving, sweet man.”
I turn to her, feeling the anger vibrating from her.
“He wasn’t a good father.”
She looks out her window. “No. He wasn’t. Or a good husband either.”
The traffic breaks and the rest of the ride is spent in silence. We make it to the club in short order.
She’s not wrong about her father. The only love that man had in him was for wealth and power. When Lucas told him he wouldn’t be going into politics, his father went off the rails with disappointment.
But Lucas wanted to be nothing like him. And while in some ways, he shared traits with the old man, he succeeded in being a better parent to Amelia than their father ever could have been.
“I won’t be long, but you’ll stay in my office,” I say as Amelia steps out of the elevator.
“Maybe I don’t want to wait in your office,” she argues as we reach my office.
“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” I open the door for her, but stop her before she walks through. “You’ve already disobeyed me once this evening; it would be a mistake to do it again.”
She eyes me with annoyance, but I don’t miss the challenge lurking there. This woman wants to run wild, but there’s something there telling me she wants to be reined in as well.
“You’re an arrogant asshole, Dmitri Dragunov,” she responds flatly. She watches me to gauge my reaction to her little verbal assault.
“I’ve been called much worse.” I lean closer to her, where I can inhale the sweetness of the perfume she wears. “But if you were wise, you’d understand the amount of trouble you’re in and would stop adding to it.”
“I’m twenty-four years old. I don’t get into trouble, Dmitri.” She raises her chin in defiance. And the blaze burns brighter in her eyes.
“Oh, but you do,moyo dikoye plamya. And I promise you won’t like it if you aren’t in my office when I get back.”
“I already don’t like it and you’re standing right in front of me.”
“Dmitri!” Boris calls to me from down the hall. I don’t have time for spoiled brats who refuse to pay attention to reality.
“Your henchmen are calling.” She folds her arms over her chest and smiles. I watch her lips, the gentle curve upward, the fullness of them and I want to kiss her again.
Not just a kiss. Possession. I want her to feel my ownership, to know there’s no getting away from me now.
She’s mine.