Page 4 of Unwillingly Yours

To meet the man who had destroyed my life.

Chapter Two

Elia

The streets were empty as I rounded a corner, my mind still racing at the thought of going to Chicago in the morning to face my fate. It was late, and the air was brisk. I welcomed the chill, letting it sober me up as I took in the sights of these familiar streets, lamplight, and dwindling foot traffic. It could be the last time I ever saw them again.

It’s just not fair.

“Hey, beautiful!” A voice startled me out of my thoughts, and I turned to find two guys from the bar had followed me, both eyeing me with the same hunger they had back inside.

I turned around, wobbling slightly as the alcohol buzzed around my brain. “Excuse me?”

The taller one laughed, punching his other friend in the chest. “What do you say? You want us to show you a good time tonight?”

I thought about the gun in my shoulder bag, wondering when I could get it out. It was something that my father made me carry. Normally, my father would have assigned a bodyguard to me, but I had given him the slip tonight to spend my last free hours with Lana. And now, as these two men came closer, I desperately wished he was here.

“Leave me alone,” I stated firmly. “And you will walk away alive.”

“Ooh,” the taller one replied, pretending to shake his hands nervously. “I’m so fucking scared.”

I backed up quickly, sneaking a hand into my shoulder bag, searching for my gun. “You should be.”

I had always been told to distract any would-be attacker for as long as I could so I had enough time to grab a gun. But the alcohol dulled my senses, and the world spun despite my best attempt at gathering myself. My fingers gripped the gun inside my bag, but fumbled. Then I felt the wall at my back.

Crap. I had forgotten to pay attention to my surroundings.

“No more tough talk?” the other guy asked, placing his hand above my head and leaning in so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Look at the little mouse trapped in her little maze. Nowhere to go but down on her knees.”

Fear started to claw at my throat as I realized what they were going to do to me. I could fight as much as I could, but there were two of them and only one of me. And just like that, going to Chicago in the morning became the least of my concerns.

“Well,” a deep booming voice drawled from behind the two guys. “What do we have here?”

My knees weakened as a man’s tall frame swam into view. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit, his thumb hooked around his pockets. But it was his face that I focused on. The face that I only saw in my nightmares. The face that I hated.

It was one thing to see that face on paper…it was another thing entirely to see those same familiar features carved into flesh and bone atop an imposing figure that I couldn’t deny was heart-stoppinglystunning.

Aleksey Korolev. My brother’s murderer. My husband to be. What the heck was he doing here? I thought he was supposed to be in Chicago.

“We’re busy, asshole,” the taller one sneered, his attention on Aleksey now. “Go find your own bitch.”

“That’s the problem,” Aleksey said as he removed his coat and draped it over the low wall near him. “You’ve foundmine. And I’m in no mood to share.”

His clean, pressed shirt strained against his torso, barely concealing the bands of muscle underneath. Lana was right. Aleksey Korolev did belong on the runway. And if he looked that good with his clothes on, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would look like naked.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I watched with bated breath as he rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing the tattoos that spelled out his life story on his strong forearms. My breath quickened at the sight as a tremor rushed through my body. He was frighteningly handsome.

One of my assailants growled and charged at Aleksey, who easily dodged the clumsy attempt and knocked the man headfirst to the ground with an effortless push. The other yelled and landed a punch against Aleksey’s waist. But the blow did nothing. It didn’t even warrant a grunt out of him.

My heart lodged in my throat as he grabbed the man’s arm and, in a single practiced motion, snapped it in half with a vicious wet crunch. The man shrieked in pain as he fell to the ground just in time for Aleksey to deliver a vicious kick to his ribs.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he snarled. “Before I end your miserable lives.”

The men wisely scrambled away and I let out a slow breath as they did so, too stunned by the sudden display of violence to move at all.

This man ruined my life. And now he just saved me.When he turned toward me, I felt my stomach quiver.

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