Page 62 of Thorns of Love
“I look forward to it, Konstantin.”
* * *
I stepped inside my home, greeted by walls that thudded and glass that vibrated by the loud music that blasted through the whole first floor. It was so fucking loud, I was surprised an avalanche didn’t follow from the nearby hills. Heck, even a mountain.
The music blasted with some old song that I even recognized. I couldn’t believe my sister would listen to Brother Louie from the 80’s. Or was it the 70s? Fuck if I knew.
The familiar song thundered through the air and I almost expected a disco ball somewhere. Brother Louie seemed to be the theme. If I saw someone in those fucking shoes with double platforms, I’d start shooting.
I turned the corner and found my guards filling the hallway.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I barked. They all crowded in front of the double doors to my living room. Two of my men had their ears pressed against the doors, listening. I must be hiring idiots because there’d be no chance in hell they’d hear anything over the loud music.
“Why aren’t you in there watching them?” I demanded to know, my eyes on Nikita. “Instead you’re out here holding each other's dicks.”
Nikita stepped forward, an implacable expression on his face. “That blonde angel of yours shot one of the men.”
A growl vibrated through my chest. She shouldn’t have to feel the need to shoot someone in my home. If someone had attempted to hurt her, I’d shoot all these motherfuckers myself.
Red dotted my vision. “What happened? What did he do?” My voice was like a whip of cold air.
Nikita shook his head. “Did it occur to you to ask what she did?”
Tatiana was wild. And impulsive. But she was my woman and I wouldn’t allow any man to question her or her actions. That was only my prerogative.
“Watch yourself, Nikita,” I warned in a low voice. “She’s my wife.”
His lips thinned in displeasure. “Your wife instructed us to remain outside. She and your sister are having private dance lessons and Mrs. Konstantin threatened that her next bullet would pierce someone's heart.”
Okay, Tatiana could be wild. I knew that. But fuck it. I’d prefer her wild side to her sad one. Although I worried about the influence that would have on my baby sister. Isla was timid and shy around strangers.
“Why didn’t you cut off the music by shutting down power to the room?” Boris questioned, appearing behind me.
“That sounds like a better approach,” I agreed.
Nikita’s jaw ticked and his expression turned darker. “Fuse box is in the room,” he remarked. “Inside.” He tilted his chin towards the closed doors. “You said if anyone lays a finger on her, you’ll cut their hands off. She played on that.”
I didn’t know whether to be proud or mad. Definitely proud. Queen through and through.
Leaving them all behind me, I pushed the doors open and strode through it. The doors bounced against the wall, hinges protesting at the violence. Of course, not a sound came through since the music blaring through the speakers drowned all other noises.
Hence neither my sister nor Tatiana noticed me enter. But I noticed them. They danced like they were professional strippers and Isla was drunker than a Russian sailor. My jaw ticked. My sister never touched alcohol, not even at Christmas.
And barely a week with Tatiana and my sister was hammered.
Tatiana wore black leggings that hugged her curves and an oversized, light blue sweater that came down to her mid thighs. My sister wore some shorts and a tank top that barely covered her ass. In the middle of fucking winter!
Okay, my proud moment might have diminished under that revelation. Anger simmering under my skin, I strode to the power outlet and yanked the cord from the wall.
Music came to a halt in the middle of a verse. Both had their hands on the support column, their asses jutted out. It looked like they were competing for the gold medal in pole dancing. If that was a category at the Olympics, the two of them would win it.
“What–” Tatiana’s undignified voice filled the silence.
Two sets of eyes met my gaze. One drunk and one surprised. Her expression quickly turned smug. Deafening silence followed as my wife and I had a stare down. She won it.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” I roared.
She smiled, smugness still filling her expression. But she didn’t lose her cool. In fact, she seemed to be extremely pleased with my reaction.
