Page 12 of Sinful Queen (Dark Mafia Sins 5)

At first, I thought she might hire someone to paint for her, but over the last few weeks, I’ve learned she does them all herself.

I pull my phone back out. As I watch her, I wonder what the hell she wanted from me the night we met. What was she looking for? It wouldn’t shock me if she and her family laughed at my expense.

The thought has my fingers curling around the frame harder than I should while trying to keep quiet. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

My eyes lift to look at the paintings left on the walls. Her works stare back, mocking me, because at first, I convinced myself they weren’t that great.Charlotte could paint something like what’s on those walls, I told myself. But now, the more I stare at them, the more they call to me. They have this hypnotic way of causing me to step forward.

I said we weren’t taking any of hers—my personal “fuck you” to her for running. But one piece in particular has my hands reaching out.

I want this one.

To her family, the paintings we left are worth the most. It’s how they run their business. But I can’t understand who would spend hundreds of thousands on a painting by an artist no one has ever heard of? Unless they aren’t legitimate sales, and that would make the most sense.

As one of my men walks past me, I hand him the painting I’m taking as a trophy. When I look at my phone again, I see she’s now covered in paint, still clueless we’re even here. She’s only wearing a bra and boyshort panties. When the last section of wall becomes bare, I give my men the signal to leave without lifting my eyes from the screen.

I’ll have my car readied for me in a few minutes; I’m not ready to leave yet. I put my phone away as I head toward her room, taking my time while turning the handle, until it opens without a click. The gallery is darker than the room, and I slip in with the shadows.

The canvas she is using doesn’t have a speck of white left on it as she takes a step back to admire her work.

“What will you call this one?” My voice rumbles over the music, and she whips around, cutting it off. She doesn’t trust she heard correctly, or if it was her imagination. “We meet again.”

An audible gasp escapes her, and her hand flies to her mouth. “Demetri,” she greets on an exhale.

I fucking knew she knew who I was that night.

“Katrina Rossi, it’s so nice to put a name to your gorgeous face.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I hate that she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even with her hair all in disarray, streaked with colorful paint, like the rest of her body. The way she looks should disgust me. If I were to place one little finger on her, I would come away painted like a rainbow.

My cock swells at the thought, and I can’t help but be turned on by the idea of ruining my clothes with the same paint that shared space on her body.

“I wanted to see if our connection was a mirage,” I reply.

“There’s no connection. You need to leave.” Her voice hitches, and I watch as a shiver dances its way down her body. A light flush warms her cheeks as she closes her eyes.

Yeah, she feels this too. She crosses her legs, and I chuckle at her inability to get comfortable in her half-naked stance.

I step up to her, my hand cupping her cheek, and a small gasp pushes past her kissable lips.

She leans into my touch involuntarily before she straightens herself. “I want nothing to do with you,” she says, pushing her shoulders back.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“I refuse to associate with the Russian mafia.”

“Hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?”

I slide my hand down her arm, and she jerks as if electrocuted, but not once has she tried to step away. My dick hardens, pushing against my pants.

My fingers glide toward the small of her back and bring her flush against me, and her paint smears onto my clothes.

“I hate you.” There’s no venom in the word, and she sounds breathless. In fact, her hand clings to my arm, and I decide right then and there to throw caution to the wind.

I press my lips to hers.

She moans into my mouth as I slip my tongue inside hers. Her tongue dances with mine… before her teeth sharply bite down.

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