Page 20

Dmitri

Rage heats my skin as I read the text exchange between Christian and my wife again.

I’ve been fisting her phone for the last half hour while I’ve waited for information to get back to me. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I’m damn sure there’s no startup company.

“Mr. Dragunov, she’s up.” Maria pops her head into my office. I’d asked her to bring some toast and water and a bottle of aspirin up to my hungover bride.

“Did she eat anything?” I ask, already out of my chair and walking toward her.

“Not yet, she said she needed to brush her teeth first.” She smiles. “She looked a little pale, but I’m sure she’ll be better after she eats something. Do you want me to bring up something more filling, maybe some eggs once she’s finished her toast?”

“Let’s see how the toast goes first,” I say, heading toward the stairs.

Amelia’s just walking back into the bedroom when I step inside. Her hair’s pulled back in a messy bun on top of her head, loose strands falling around her face. Maria’s right. She does look a little pale.

“Good morning.” I close the door behind me.

She lifts a hand in greeting and sits on the edge of the bed.

Maria left the tray on the dresser, so I grab the water and aspirin bottle and bring it to her. After shaking out two pills, I hold them out to her.

“You’ll need this. But you need to eat so it won’t upset your stomach.”

She winces, probably at the memory of getting sick last night.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the little white pills and the glass of water from me.

After she swallows them, she takes a few more sips of water and puts the glass down on the nightstand.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, sliding back onto the bed and pulling her feet up.

“Why would I be mad?” If Boris hadn’t been there, her head wouldn’t be the only thing hurting on her today.

But he was, and she was with a friend.

“Because I got drunk at a bar.” She half smiles. “On fireball shots, of all things, that some guy gave us.”

“Some guy gave you?” Okay, maybe I’m a little upset. Boris left that part out.

“Well, not gave, just invited us to take a round with him and his friends,” she explains. “I think they wanted us to hang out with them, but after Sarah told them my name, I think they got scared.”

“How?”

She looks up at me, her eyes still glossy from her adventures last night.

“She told them my name is Amelia Dragunov. She also told them I was married to you, which is when one guy got a little pale, and they made an excuse to leave.”

“Ah.” I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t fill me with pride that my name alone can protect her.

“But my name’s not Dragunov. Not yet. I haven’t had time to go to the social security office.” She picks up the glass and takes another small sip.

“It’s already done. I had it taken care of.”

She blinks hard. “You had it taken care of?”

“Yes.” I nod.

She laughs. “Of course you did. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“There are a few things.” I bring her the toast and place it next to the water. “You need to eat. If you can handle this, Maria will make you something more substantial.”

She eyes it. “I’m not hungry. My stomach doesn’t hurt, I’m just not hungry.”

“Eat anyway.” I push the little plate closer to her.

“Fine.” She picks up a piece of toast and takes the tiniest bite off the corner before putting it back down.

I merely shake my head at her.

“I don’t understand. I’ve seen you drink way more than I did last night, but you don’t even get tipsy.” She folds her legs beneath her.

“When I was your age, I overdid it a few times, too.” I grin.

It’s been ages since I fell so deep into a bottle though. A lesson everyone learns at some point.

“Besides, you’re not a drinker. But last night you said you were thinking all sorts of things that you wanted to forget. Do you remember?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s nothing bad, just… personal. Let me sort it out on my own, all right?”

It probably has something to do with her admission that she likes me. I suppose given how we’ve cultivated our relationship so far, it would make sense. Realizing there are feelings when you don’t want there to be can be unsettling.

“Does it have anything to do with the investment Christian wants from you?” I poke at a different hornet’s nest.

She thinks a moment, then remembers.

“No. But don’t worry, I’m telling him no. I don’t have that kind of money anyway,” she says.

“You do.” I hand over her phone. “The deposits all went through yesterday.”

“What deposits?” She takes the phone and swipes the screen to life.

After a moment of opening her bank app, she looks up at me with shock. “What is this?”

“The money your brother left you. The only thing left to deal with is the sale of his apartment.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I had his two cars sold.”

She looks at the screen again.

“Dmitri.” She turns the phone toward me as though I should be as surprised as her. “There’s almost five million dollars in here.”

I nod. “Yes.” Most of his worth is tied up in his company. If he had sold those shares, he’d have probably triple that amount.

“Let me guess, you made that before rolling out of bed this morning?” She laughs, still staring at the number on the screen.

“No. That takes me a day or two sometimes,” I tease. “So, you have the money to give him, but I don’t want you to give him any.” I pause a beat. “Ever.”

“Are you asking me not to or ordering me not to?” Now she teases.

A touch of pink brushes across her cheeks and my jeans gets tighter.

Fuck, this woman stirs everything inside of me with just a simple smile.

No. It’s more than that. It’s the way she jokes, the easy way this conversation flows.

“I don’t trust him, Amelia. You’ve known him a long time, but that makes it easier for him to manipulate you.”

“He’s not manipulating me. He’s looking out for me; he probably just thinks that I’d make money on the deal.” She pauses. “But I won’t give him any money. He did sound a little desperate in those texts.”

Cupping her chin, I pull her head back so I can brush my mouth across hers.

“Good girl,” I whisper just to watch her pupils dilate and that blush spread further across her face.

“I need to take a shower. I can still smell that fireball on me.” She scoots around me and slides off the bed.

“Do you need help?” I offer, ready to strip out of this shirt and jeans to get in with her.

She laughs and waves me off. “No, thanks. The last time you helped clean me, you got me all dirty instead.”

My cock gets even harder remembering the sight of my cum spurting across her ass in the shower. The water washed it away too quickly, though.

“Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen. Do you think you can handle something more than toast? Eggs, maybe?”

She scrunches her face. “Maybe not those. Pancakes? And coffee? Really strong coffee.”

I grin. “Of course.”

Once she’s dressed for the day, maybe I’ll take her shopping. She needs more clothes and the girls haven’t been able to nail her down to get them. The center keeps her too busy, and now with the carnival planning she’s buried even deeper.

Yes. I’ll demand she take the day off and we’ll go shopping. Get lunch, too. Something casual. Something ordinary married couples do on the weekend.

“Boss.” Boris meets me at the foot of the stairs.

He’s got a frown so fierce my walls immediately go up.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to that girl?” He’d been tasked with taking Sarah home.

If something happened, it would hurt Amelia. And I don’t want anything ruining today.

“No. She’s fine.” There’s something weird about his tone when he says that, but he starts talking again before I can figure it out. “Christian Sendell is here.”

My muscles tighten.

“Why?”

“He’s in the living room. He wants to see Amelia. I told him to fuck off, but he wouldn’t go. Says he’s been trying to get a hold of her, and she won’t pick up. If he can’t see her, he’s going to call the cops.”

“That’s ballsy,” I grunt.

It’s not usually a good idea to tell men in my world that you’re going to report them to the authorities.

“I’ve had her phone. He hasn’t called once.” Anger simmers in my veins. “I’ll talk to him.”

He nods and heads off, leaving me to deal with the prick.

I find the asshole pacing across my living room. He’s jamming one hand through his hair and muttering to himself. Whatever mess he’s found himself in, it must be serious.

“Christian,” I announce myself and he freezes, turning slowly to me. “I thought I made it clear I don’t want you around my wife.”

“You can’t keep her locked up here like some prisoner,” he demands, gesturing wildly at me.

His eyes are bloodshot and his skin pale. There’s a jitter to his hand as he points it at me.

“She’s free to come and go as she pleases.” I take a step down into the living room. “Depending on how this goes, I’m not sure that can be said for you. What do you want?”

“I want to see Amelia.” It’s practically a whine at this point.

“She’s not coming down. What do you want?” I take another step toward him.

“I just want to go over an opportunity with her.” He swallows.

“She told me about it; she declines.” I roll my shoulders back. “You should go.”

“No!” He slices his hand through the air. “It’s a good investment. It’s a good one, it will help.”

“Help? Who? Her or you? Why do you need that sort of cash? What have you done?”

Panic rises in his eyes at my question and there’s no doubt. He’s gotten himself in deep with something or someone. A debt? Drugs? Who does he owe that much money?

“Nothing.” His voice cracks as he makes his denial. “Look. I just need that money. And I know she’d make it back. I can get it back to her.”

“You’re not getting a cent from her.”

He’s panicking. The vein in his neck throbs.

“Fine. Then you give it to me.” A calm suddenly comes over him with this demand.

He stands straighter and raises his chin. “Yes. You give it to me.”

I don’t even bother wasting energy on keeping a stoic expression. I laugh right at him.

“Never going to happen.”

“You should think twice about it. I mean, you know… I know.” He points at himself. “I know what you did, how you and Lucas met, I know.”

Now he has my attention.

“Whatever you think you know, I don’t care. The only reason you’re still breathing is because it would hurt Amelia to have another death in her family.” And I would sooner cut off my own limb than let her feel the sorrow of losing someone else she cares for.

Even if it is this scumbag.

“Yes, and if she finds out, it will hurt her. You don’t want to do that, so just give me the money.”

“Better men than you have tried to blackmail me.” I step toward him again, enjoying his retreat when I do.

The man has no spine. He’s desperate and pathetic.

“If you won’t give me the money, I will tell Amelia. I swear I will.”

A second later, a soft voice shatters through the tension of the room.

“Tell me what?”