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Killian clicks his tongue against his teeth. “This place is locked up tight as a vault. If you’re breaking in, you’d better bring some fire power.”

That makes me pause.

I need a plan. “Give me a second.” I close my eyes and try to think. However Honeyeh ended up at Dimitri’s door, she belongs here. And there is no way I’m letting some other man touch her.

I may be worried about hurting Honeyeh, but I sure as fuck am better than whatever filthy animal buys her tonight.

There is no way that’s happening.

“Did you send me the address?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. In that case, station yourself outside of Dimitri’s home. His daughter. The nanny. Follow them.”

“Triston.”

“I know. And I know I promised no more work like this, but Honeyeh, she’s mine. And he’s going to give her back or…”

Killian drops several curses. “It’s not that I don’t see the wisdom…”

“I’ll try every other way first. But Honeyeh, she needs me to fight for her. She can’t do it on her own.” The truth of those words hit me in the chest. She’ll be whatever I need, whatever I want. A maid. An assistant. My lover. My wife. She’ll beg me, she’ll let me bend her over the bed and fuck her however I wish if she just… She needs my strength like she needs air.

“Fuck yeah, she does.” Killian starts walking. I hear his boots on the pavement. “And I’ll only ever say this to you once. But when you set yourself to protecting a woman like that, brother, she’ll give you every fucking piece of herself back until your whole life is better than you ever imagined.”

I look down at the phone. I can’t accept that. That I could give myself wholly and get a whole person back. But I can do this. I was going to war with Dimitri Ivanov anyway.

Honeyeh will be in no man’s bed but mine.

Grabbing my keys, I’m out the door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Honeyeh

I stand beforeone the scariest men I’ve ever met. I can tell he’s Russian by his accent, and Brittany confirms my assumption when she says, “Honeyeh, this is my boss, Mr. Ivanov.”

“Dimitri,” he rumbles, looking me over. I have on the same sundress that I wore to my interview at Triston’s. I didn’t know what else to wear.

My hair is still mostly in the loose curls that the stylist placed them in last night, but I had to wash off the smudged makeup.

When I called Brittany, she was at my house within thirty minutes. “This is so exciting,” she gushed as she pulled me out of my place, Darius giving me a curious stare as we passed.

“Who is she?” he asked, looking suspicious.

“My friend,” I said with a weak smile. “We’re going shopping.”

“In your interview dress?”

Crap. I suck at lying. “I need clothes for work.” I lied again and then dashed for the door.

Now I wish I hadn’t. Nothing about this feels right.

I don’t want to call him Dimitri. I don’t want to call him anything. I want to go home. “I don’t think I should?—”

He gives me a smile which only makes him look more frightening. “Sit.” It’s not a request and I find myself sliding into the chair.

Crap. Why do I always just follow commands? My hands twist together. But Brittany touches my shoulder. “Honeyeh needs ten thousand by tomorrow to pay for her brother’s surgery.”