Page 22 of Torn Souls

She swallows hard and nods. “I do need to speak to Mr. Volkov,” her words are fierce, but I can see the tremor in her hands as she links her fingers together in front of her.

“I’m taking you right to him.”

With a nod she looks anywhere but at me. Knowing the ride is short prevents me from wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against my chest. Everything inside of me is screaming to do it, but I know it won’t be nearly enough time to enjoy her body pressed against mine.

Soon.

I place my hand on the small of Oaklynn’s back when the elevator doors slide open. Betty looks up from her desk, her eyes going hooded when she sees me. She thinks she’s being seductive, but she just looks sleepy.

What Betty doesn’t realize is I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. Not only is it a horrible idea to shit where you eat, but she does nothing for me. Sure, I can appreciate that she’s an attractive woman, but the calculation in her eyes is a huge turn off.

Over the last few months, she’s gotten more desperate and aggressive in her advances. Not just with me but with all of us. While she would prefer to snag Kirill, she’ll take any of us because she believes it’ll give her the status, money, and power she’s desperate for.

When Betty’s eyes slide toward Oaklynn because my hand is still resting on the small of her back, the way her eyes narrow has me thinking about pulling my knife from its hiding place. It would be so easy to slit her throat.

“Baker,” Betty coos and I’m barely able to hide my wince. She cocks her head to the side when she looks back at Oaklynn. “And who are you?”

“I’m Oaklynn Chambers,” our woman stands tall, her head held high.

“Okay?” Betty holds out the word, the question clear as day.

Oaklynn doesn’t bend; she simply arches an eyebrow and offers nothing more. I have to bite back a grin at how strong our woman is. She’s going to be the perfect person on Kirill’s arm while also being the queen of the Bratva. Strong with a hint of softness is what we all need.

Movement behind Betty has my eyes flicking in that direction to find Kirill walking down the hallway. His eyes flash in surprise when he sees Oaklynn standing next to me and one side of his mouth tips up when he notices where I’m touching her.

Even if he demanded me to drop my hand, I wouldn’t be able to. The need to touch her is strong, I’m barely satisfying it as it is.

“But who are you?” Betty’s question is demanding.

“I’m here to see Mr. Volkov,” Oaklynn responds without really answering Betty’s question.

Betty’s eyes narrow before she glances down at her computer. “You don’t have a meeting with Mr. Volkov,” she states as if it is enough.

It’s not.

“Betty,” Kirill’s voice is filled with malice and warning.

The woman in question spins around, her eyes wide as her face pales. Oaklynn stiffens next to me, but she doesn’t shrink in on herself.

She exudes a different attitude today than she did the other night. At dinner she was casting her eyes downward and would barely look any of us in the eye. Today she’s exuding confidence and has an air about her that she won’t be taking any shit.

I swear there’s a little bit of glee sparkling in her eyes with the way Kirill is looking down at Betty. Our woman has a bloodthirsty edge to her. I’m going to love fueling it.

There’s a challenge in Kirill’s tone as he asks, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“She doesn’t have an appointment, but is insisting on seeing you,” Betty demurs.

I scoff and shake my head subtly when Kirill looks my way. Oaklynn tilts her head to the side, and I already know she’s not going to let it stand.

“I didn’t insist on anything,” Oaklynn states, her voice silky and going right to my cock. “I told the woman downstairs I needed to speak to Mr. Volkov and was willing to wait, but she tried to turn me away until Mr. Dalton intervened. He’s the one who brought me up here. We were headed to see Mr. Volkov until you decided to try and piss all over your territory like an untrained chihuahua.”

Unable to hold it in, I bark out a laugh and Kirill’s mask slips as he grins. Betty turns bright red, her mouth opening and closing in shock.

“I, I,” Betty starts to stutter, “that is not how it happened.”

Oaklynn simply arches an eyebrow in Betty’s direction, the dismissal evident before she looks at Kirill. “Do you have a moment to speak with me, Mr. Volkov?”

“Miss Chambers,” Kirill’s voice is an octave lower, “I will always have time to speak to you.”

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