Page 31 of Destined for the Devil
Before I could respond anything, he tightened his grip and almost yanked me to him and onto the dance floor. A little thrown off, I threwRoman a glance, catching his death stare.
Sergei slid his right hand around my waist and began moving to the music, clearly skilled at leading. Breathing deeply and still fully entrenched in my conversation with Roman, I moved my feet to the music, having years of experience on the dance floor. When I was a teenager, I almost made it to the nationals in Latin and ballroom dance, so Sergei had fucking nothing on me.
Yeah, I was always competitive and hard-working. What started off as a hobby when I was a kid became almost a career when I was sixteen. But I always knew I wanted to attend medical school, so I had to abandon the dancing dream. And then, all my dreams were abandoned. But here was Roman, clearly determined to revive one of them, without me even knowing it!
"How do you know Roman?" Sergei ripped me out of my thoughts, his voice sickly sweet. For some reason, his smile genuinely scared me. He was tall, the same height as Roman, but he was the complete opposite. Sun-bleached blonde hair, no visible tattoos, an expression of innocence, but…something sinister and evil lurked behind his eyes.
I didn't know what to say, exactly. Tell him that Roman rescued me from a burning building, and I spent almost a month living with him and now wanted to fuck him every second of every day?
"We just met recently. How do you know him?" I did my best to just move the conversation forward while Sergei masterfully spun me around the dance floor, obviously also knowing what he was doing.
"I'm his friend and business partner. I don't ever recall him mentioning you." Sergei threw me another perfect grin, and it made me want to hurl. "Are you dating?" He shot out the unexpected question, his grip on me as tight as ever. Why the fuck was he so interested?!
"No," I answered simply and smiled too, trying to hide my discomfort.
"That's understandable. Roman would never go for a girl like you. Helikes his women...beautiful and tall. Like that one. See?" And he leaned in closer and pointed to a woman across the dance floor.
Indeed, she was tall and beautiful, her long blonde hair falling past her shoulders in relaxed waves. But she had an expression of total and utter disinterest, her facial muscles not even moving while multiple men tried to engage her in conversation.
"You mean thatwhore-looking one over there?" I retorted back angrily, jealousy erupting inside me at the thought of Roman with someone like that. At the thought of Roman withanyone…but me.
Sergei scoffed, and his less than subtle efforts to put me down confused and alarmed me. Why were we even speaking about this?
"Hmm...I can see why he keeps you around, though. That mouth of yours is skillful...maybe in more ways than one." Sergei spun me around once more, his eyes burning a hole in me.
I hated him. I was repulsed and disgusted just being near him, and all of a sudden, his hand slid down my hip and over the swell of my ass.
"Don't touch me like that," I spat back, my body recoiling at the touch, but Sergei smiled wider. Right behind him, I caught sight of Roman beelining it for us, shoving a dancing man out of his way as he took quick strides closer and closer.
But it wasn’t fast enough because Sergei had something else to tell me.
"Don't be scared, Isla...I won't do anything inappropriate here on the dance floor. My wife is only a few feet away. No. I'll make sure to find you...when you're alone. Just like his other one." The threat registered in my mind right away, and my blood turned cold as my legs stopped moving, the shock hitting immediately. Our rhythm lost, we slowed down and stopped, Sergei still holding onto me with force.
I must have been trembling because he looked me over and pouted dramatically, his next words barely above a whisper. "I hope you're shaking from fear and pain next time I get my hands on you. I want tohear youscream...and beg me to stop. But I won't. I won't stop until I take everything that I want from you...Isla."
“Hey!” Roman’s voice broke the moment and our dance.
Glued to one spot, I watched their heated exchange in Russian, not understanding a word. Roman was visibly angry, but Sergei chuckled and, without sparing me another glance, turned and walked away.
“Isla?” Roman called my name, but I couldn't breathe; I couldn't move. I stood there shaking and trying to catch my breath from the very vivid and menacing words.
I looked up into his deep blue eyes filled with concern and care and wondered…who the fuck was Roman, and why did he have friends like this?
17
The Truth
Roman
Islawasethereal.Isaw only her. The sparkle in her eyes, her genuine smile, the way her laugh spread warmth through all of me. And yet, she was more reserved and distant than ever—cold even. A noticeable change from how things were between us just a week ago. I regretted taking her to this dinner; it all was such a fucking mess after everything I’d said and done.
I double-regretted it when I saw Sergei's eyes lock onto her. Incredible anger and jealousy exploded inside me like a bomb. He had no right to lay his filthy eyes on her. What was worse is that I recognized that look; that's how he looked when he was interested.
Before dinner started, I left Isla sitting at the dinner table and headed around the room, shaking hands with all the 'important' people, Sergei at my side. Once we were done with the small talk, I joined him at the bar, and he turned toward our table with a small smile.
"Well, well. Look who you sheltered, like an abandoned puppy. She's still at your house then, huh?" He spoke Russian, dark humor and sarcasm spilling out of him with satisfaction as he sipped on his whisky.
I didn't answer, just watched him watch her. I'd known him for what felt like forever, but never had I wanted to kill him more than in that moment.
