Page 37 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

K azimir

The Godfather .

I had to laugh. Marissa’s choice of movie the night before continued to amuse me.

Maybe she’d thought I could gain some pointers about being in a syndicate.

Why was it that my cock twitched while my mind processed another rousing round of wicked thoughts?

Maybe she’d wanted to see my reaction to the violence in her choice, especially the scene with the horse’s head in the bed.

She hadn’t flinched when the vivid imagery had unfolded.

She’d been too mesmerized watching me while munching on pizza. As if I was that interesting. I’d found myself ignoring the movie including the violence, preferring to notice how well her voluptuous body filled the stiff linen of my shirt.

When she’d started asking questions while on her second glass of wine, I’d been even more amused.

“How many people have you killed?”

“Too many to count on both hands and both feet.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Really?”

I gave her a look while lifting my eyebrows. “No.” The truth was, up to the recent events, I’d killed one man, an asshole who’d come at my father with a machete. A freaking machete. I’d shot him in the head without a second thought, my training kicking in. Had I felt any remorse? No.

“What does it feel like taking a life?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

She gave me the same stern look I’d given her. “I asked you a question.”

“How does it feel?” I’d thought about it before answering, as no one had ever asked me that. In fact, I’d been advised never to rethink the kill even for a moment. Having a conscience had no place in our world. There was the great word again. World.

“Like feeling a noose tightening around your neck from the hand of God.” What I hadn’t said was the feeling was a clear indication I was going to hell. But killing the four men determined to take what belonged to me had felt glorious.

What kind of man did that make me?

She’d studied me as if a specimen on a glass slide. Then she’d done the sweetest thing, another reminder, another indication she was an innocent creature in a sea of violence.

She signed ‘You’re a fascinating man.’ Few things floored me any longer.

How could they? I lived a life surrounded by luxury.

I’d seen countless experiences in running a resort that had kept me laughing or gritting my teeth.

Including an Elvis impersonator singing a marriage proposal to one of my chefs.

But after everything she’d been through, the hatred she’d felt earlier, her sudden change in attitude had created another vacuum of emotions, a stronger need to protect her.

Granted, later she’d added the sentiment since I’d deemed myself a very bad man.

That was true. Perhaps more accurate was that I was a dangerous man, too much for her. The rage that had nearly consumed me when Ryker hadn’t been at his post wasn’t like me. I could have easily killed the man. As it was, I remained determined to punish him.

Then I’d spouted off that she was mine. I think we both knew better. At the end of this experience, her initial feelings and instincts would hit home once again.

Well, fuck. However, shutting down my desires for her was becoming increasingly difficult.

While I meant what I said, the deep-seated need to have her more powerful than anything I’d felt in my life, our explosive passion simply couldn’t happen again. It would be like holding onto a live grenade with my thumb replacing the pin. I could destroy her in the process of caring for her.

No. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

Fuck.

The need was so goddamn strong. Where the hell had all my control gone?

Unfortunately, it was becoming increasingly clear I’d need to take her to Vegas for safekeeping.

For how long remained to be seen. I’d yet to broach the subject.

Another difficult moment. And what the hell was I supposed to do about the benefit concert she’d mentioned?

Maybe the entire Dmitriyev family would attend.

I grinned from the thought. Allowing a little culture into the Russian world wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.

I needed to curtail my thoughts. In my life, I’d learned from experience that allowing emotions into any situation when danger was involved was risky.

Enough so I’d remained the playboy I was rightfully accused of being.

The single time I’d lost my way, losing my willpower just like I’d done with Marissa had proven everything I’d learned to be true.

Yet goddamn it, I craved the talented pianist.

My skin was painted with her scent, the fragrance of her sweet pussy juice embedded in my nostrils, the taste of ripe cherries lingering on my tongue. I’d even stood outside her door for several minutes, my cock aching like a son of a bitch in its hunger for more.

The woman made me make extraordinarily horrific decisions, succumbing to irresponsible actions. I rubbed my jaw, envisioning her expression when she’d orgasmed. Priceless.

After she’d fallen asleep, I’d carried her to bed and returned to work for a couple of hours, providing details to Mikhail and gleaning as much information as I could find on the Popov regime.

Their methods were completely different than those of the Dmitriyev Empire. Yet… we could play under their rules as well.

I grabbed my jacket, surprised Marissa had ventured upstairs where she’d remained for a couple of hours.

After checking my weapon, I moved to one of two duffle bags I’d finally brought inside.

After sliding two fresh magazines of ammunition into my jacket pocket, I checked my phone since I’d heard an incoming text only minutes before.

The company jet was on the ground in Seattle.

Good. We’d have enough fire and manpower to keep a war from ensuing.

Or to crush our enemies.

Noise from the top of the stairs grabbed my attention. I tipped my head and I had no doubt my facial expression was hard and cold. She was going to drive me completely insane.

“What do you think you’re doing?” My tone was stern, more so because I could read Marissa’s thoughts.

She was dressed to kill in a bright red dress leaving little to the imagination.

Seeing her in heels, her hair in soft curls floating around her shoulders as she walked, my entire body went rigid.

With a small purse swung over her shoulder, she was ready to leave the house with or without my permission. She also had a single small suitcase.

What in God’s name was she thinking?

“I’m coming with you. As I’ve been reminded more than once, Marengo is fifty percent mine.”

My laugh was harsher than I’d intended, but if she thought I’d allow her to place herself in intense danger, she was out of her mind. “Not a chance in hell.”

Bound and determined, she dropped the bag on a stair near the front door.

She wasn’t deterred, walking closer in a way that could decimate most men. But I wasn’t someone who could fall prey to her feminine wiles or practiced determination. She had no clue she’d be walking into a lion’s den.

“I’m your business partner. Since I am, I need to have a better understanding of the kind of situation Charlie placed himself in.”

“It’s not a situation any longer, Marissa. It’s an explosion waiting to happen. I invited Popov to a meeting. I assure you it won’t be a typical corporate affair.”

“Hmmm… Do you plan on killing each other? If so, that wouldn’t be fair to the employees.” She stood several feet away, peering at me with her eyes on fire. The woman could be formidable as hell.

I laughed. She was as stubborn as she was beautiful. “Not if I can help it, but I’m just one man.”

“Didn’t I overhear you talking to what I assume was one of your brothers, perhaps the Pakhan about an entire brigade of people coming to your aid?” Her smile was wry, a decadent glimpse of a cunning side I hadn’t seen.

Shame on me.

It was impossible to keep a smile from my face. As she slowly walked toward me, I rubbed my jaw, realizing I still had yet to shave. She’d interrupted my normal routine in several ways.

“You were spying on me.”

“I wouldn’t call it spying. You were talking loudly as if you wanted me to overhear your conversation. How else should I think of it?” While she was watching my lips, she was confident in what she was saying.

She was right. I’d taken to talking loudly now by habit. As if everything revolved around her. And it had for almost forty-eight hours, although it seemed as if I’d known her for much longer.

“Am I correct? You have an entire brigade coming to Seattle for this discussion with the second Bratva Pakhan?”

“That doesn’t change my answer. You’re not going.”

She swished her hips as she walked closer, pinning me with her soulful eyes.

As she adjusted my tie, smoothing her hand down the expensive silk, she sighed as if my words were little more than a subtle distraction.

“So you’re trying to tell me I’ll be safer here with a few men than at a hotel surrounded by your entire family and I’m guessing at least a dozen or more soldiers all carrying big, fat guns. Is that what you’re saying?”

I gritted my teeth. She had a point. “You’ll be safe as long as you stay inside the house. My men are armed and know what to look out for.”

Although I’d begun to think simple firepower wasn’t enough.

Popov was a clever man who would use whatever tactics needed to gain control.

That much I’d gleaned from reading about him.

Yet another reason to take her with me and head to Vegas.

At least the resort manager seemed capable.

I could return once a week until I’d determined what to do with the facility.

The best bet was to sell the property outright, but that could take months in trying to vet the right purchaser.

Plus, there was the pesky realization Marissa was part owner. With her resolve, she would refuse to allow the property to be sold.