Page 20 of Defiled Innocence

Turning around, I find Dmitri holding pretty boy by his throat. Two men stand behind Brad and the crowd has opened up around us, giving Dmitri more room.

“I’m sorry, man,” Brad squeezes out.

Dmitri grabs hold of Brad’s right hand, the one that’s been grabbing me for the past ten minutes.

“You will be. I promise.” Dmitri wraps his own hand around Brad’s fist and squeezes until Brad screams. Tears run down his cheeks and he’s gasping for breath.

Dmitri tosses Brad at his two security guys. “Take him.”

“Dmitri.” I pull at his arm to get his attention. “Don’t. You can’t kill him,” I shout over the music at him.

Heated, angry eyes meet mine when he looks down at me. His gaze moves to where my hand is clenching his suit jacket. The dark energy seeps through my fingers and I release him.

The security guards drag Brad away, his limp and broken hand cradled in his other hand.

Dmitri leans into me, his warm breath brushing over my cheek as he presses his mouth to my ear.

“This is the second time tonight I’ve had to deal with a man who’s had his hands on you because you did not stay where I told you to.” Even with the music thumping, the crowd screaming around us, I hear every word. And he’s not even yelling.

“I just wanted a drink.” It’s such a flimsy thing to say given how fiercely he’s staring at me.

“It’s time you learned what happens to naughty girls who don’t know how to listen.”

My insides heat. I must have heard him wrong. Maybe the music is getting in the way more than I think. Without another word, he picks up my hand, laces his fingers through mine, and tugs me along with him through the crowd.

It’s as if everyone knows who he is and parts for him as he drags me through the dancers like some errant little girl who’s been caught out after curfew. A few pitying glances are thrown my way by passing waitresses.

Do they know what’s happening?

Because I sure as hell don’t.

Boris frowns when we pass him at the exit. I try to twist around to stay something to him, but Dmitri just tugs me harder when I slow us down.

As though his mere presence controls the elevator, the doors slide open as we approach and he pulls me inside.

“Dmitri.”

“Quiet now, Amelia.” He squeezes my hand a little. “No talking yet.”

He continues to stare at the elevator doors as we are lifted up to the next floor. I’m not really sure what to make of his sudden silence.

Anger still radiates from him, so I know it’s not because he’s come to his senses that I’m a full-grown woman who can go down to the bar if she wants.

I was perfectly safe. Even if he hadn’t shown up, I’m sure one of his security guards would have caught up to me and handled Brad. If he’d been a few minutes later, I could have handled Brad myself.

Dmitri’s fingers rub against mine. It has an oddly calming effect. Not ten minutes ago, this hand broke bones, but now it’s gentle—even if a bit firm.

I take a chance and look up at him. His jaw is still tense, his eyes firmly set in front of him. When he swallows, there’s a ripple in his throat. The man has the thickest neck I’ve ever seen, and there’s a black tattoo sneaking up from his shirt collar.

When the elevator dings our arrival, he leads me into the hall. There’s another man standing in front of his office looking like he wants to talk to Dmitri.

“Not now.” He waves the man away and walks us into the office, kicking the door shut behind us.

“If you need to talk to him…” My words fade with a simple squeeze of his hand.No talking, right.

Dmitri walks me to the far end of the office and positions me ahead of him, shoving me lightly into the corner.

As soon as he lets my hand go, I turn, but he’s right there and I walk straight into his chest. His hands grasp my shoulders, and he simply turns me back around.

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