Page 63 of The Den of Sin
I stared at him, my wretched heart breaking with each passing second. It hurt so bad, I found it hard to breathe.
“Why?” I mustered the courage to ask.
“Why what?” He seemed annoyed at my question. In swift movements, he stood up and went to gather the rest of his clothes that were scattered all over my dorm room. He started getting dressed, never even glancing my way.
“Why did you sleep with me?”
“You wanted me, and I wanted you,” he retorted matter-of-factly like he was talking about the weather. He was more focused on his clothes than me or my heart that he shattered to pieces with each word he uttered. “Now that I’ve had you, I’m sated, and I can move on to the next best thing. It was just a fuck.”
My chest ached, each breath I took squeezing my chest further.
“Besides, you were so easy,” he added. I met his eyes in confusion. “Your mother took from my family, so I took from your mother.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You shouldn’t play with wolves, Isabella. Neither you nor your mother can handle it.”
Move on to the next best thing. It took me a long time to move on. It took him just a few days. I happened to see a friend with one of those tabloid magazines and there he was. A big picture blasted on the front page, Vasili Nikolaev with some drop-dead gorgeous actress or something.
He gave me my first orgasm, my first sexual experience, and my first heartbreak. All in the span of one night. And it took him just as long, or should I say short, to move on.
That pain never went away. He spotted the next best thing the moment he stepped outside. Would he do it again when he got what he wanted? Did he get what he wanted and was ready to move on now?
I blinked my eyes and steeled my heart. Glancing behind my shoulder at him, and I found him watching me.
“You were right,” I smiled, but it was my reserved smile. I perfected that over the last five years. “She left with Adrian.” I looked away from him, scanning my shredded costume. “I’m going to go. Any chance you have some clothes I could borrow? Mine are ruined.” I glanced back at him hoping he couldn’t see the budding fear I was desperately trying to hide.
Silence stretched between us, the passion we shared lingering in unspoken words as we watched each other. But this time, I didn’t ask for his next date, or when I’d see him again. I kept my smile on and my heart closed.
“I’ll take you,” he finally said and got out of the bed, giving me a magnificent view of his ass. There wasn’t an ounce of fat even on his ass. Jesus, the man was a machine. He should have at least one imperfection somewhere.
“No, I just need clothes. She left me the number for our driver so that he can take me home.”
I watched him pull his pants on and strode to a wall that shifted, revealing a closet with a full wardrobe and… guns?
“Are those guns?” I muttered my question, my eyes locked on the wall that held at least five guns there.
“Yes.”
“Is that legal?”
“Don’t worry, malyshka. They are all registered, and I have a permit for them.”
I frowned, not understanding why he would need so many guns. The other day, he had a gun on him too. In all the time I’ve known Tatiana and seen her brothers, I couldn’t recall ever hearing them mention guns. Was this normal in the criminal world they were part of? Probably. Didn’t Vasili mention that in his other businesses his men got hurt? This must be what he meant.
He was already dressed, walking back towards me with a shirt to wear and a pair of boxers.
“Why do you have so many guns?” I questioned.
“Stand up,” he murmured the order, and I immediately obeyed, clutching the sheet to me as if it were a protective shield. He knelt down, and I stepped my one foot through, then the other into his boxers that would serve as my shorts since my panties were destroyed. It seemed to be a normal thing with him, tearing up my panties.
“Open your arms,” he followed up, and I did as he asked, reluctantly letting go of what was left of my ill-fated modesty. As he buttoned the shirt up, he met my eyes. “There are some people that want me dead. The guns are for protection.”
“Oh.” He rolled up the one sleeve, our bodies so close, brushing against each other. This moment felt intimate, simple. “Why would someone want to hurt you?” I couldn’t resist asking.
He switched to the other sleeve. “I’ll tell you one day. Not tonight though.”
I glanced down at myself. His shirt came all the way down to my knees. I guess it was the best we could do considering the circumstances. Theoretically, this covered more than my costume even if it felt much more intimate.
