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I leaned against the black Mercedes with my arms crossed as I watched the entrance of the mansion.

The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city, and a crescent moon sat up in the sky. It was a beautiful night, but all of that barely mattered when my attention was fixed on the door, waiting for Giselle.

And then she walked out in a dress she’d ordered that morning.

It was strapless and red, clinging to her in all the right places, and the rich color complemented the gold in her skin and the sharpness of her emerald eyes. Her raven hair cascaded in soft waves, framing her face.

She was beautiful in a way I considered unworldly, too perfect for a world like this. Everything about her, from the curves of her hips to the swell of her breasts to the gleaming in her eyes, caught me off guard for a moment.

My pulse kicked up, and a pang of desire made my heart beat faster. I couldn’t take my eyes off her for a second, not even as she descended the porch with an elegance that couldn’t be taught. She was a natural, born for a life worthy of a queen.

I straightened up, trying in earnest to hide the desire lurking inside me as she approached me with a smile.

“How do I look?” she asked with glee.

“Not bad.” I tried to sound as cool as I could despite reaching the brink of pure obsession.

She pursed her lips. “Not bad? Is that supposed to be a compliment? I spent hours shopping and getting ready for tonight, and that’s all you can say?”

I wanted to tell her how jaw-droppingly gorgeous she looked, how any man would fall at her feet just to get her attention, but I didn’t. Instead, I opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

She heaved a frustrated sigh, but luckily, she didn’t argue. She just went along, sliding into the passenger seat without a word of argument.

I closed the door and rounded the car to the driver’s seat. “Buckle your seatbelt.”

She did.

“Remember the rules?” I asked, ignoring the way she pouted her plump, pink lips to show her displeasure.

“How could I forget? I’m supposed to be the perfect fiancée. I have to stick by your side and wear a pretty smile at all times. I mustn’t do anything to embarrass you.”

“Good, and if someone asks, tell them we’re in love.”

She flashed a sly grin at me. “In love? No one will believe that. I mean, do we look in love?”

“I don’t care. Your job is to make them believe it.”

She met my gaze. “And what story do I tell them if they ask? My father died working for you, and we’d never met before? At least I need a convincing love story they’ll buy.”

“Keep it simple and short. We met once and fell in love at first sight. We’ve been dating secretly and only decided to go public with our engagement after your father died.”

She let out a breath, looking unbothered. “I’ll do my best to remember.”

“Your best has to be good enough.”

She exhaled a low chuckle and leaned back in her seat. “Sure.”

Something about the way she said it made my jaw tighten. Like she knew exactly what the game was and was playing along. Sometimes, I couldn’t tell if I was the one manipulating her or if I was getting fooled instead.

I started the car, suppressing the urge to glance at her again. This was going to be a long night.

***

The drive to the gala was smooth, but the tension inside the car was palpable all thirty minutes it took us to get here—at least for me, it was.

Giselle sat comfortably beside me, lightly tracing the edge of her clutch. She was at ease—too at ease for my liking—while I struggled with the urge to not lose my self-control around her.

All along, the only thing I could think of was those stiletto heels she was wearing digging into my back and her screaming my name as I took care of her. Every moment of it was pure torture.

Cameras flashed in a frenzy outside as we pulled up to the grand hotel entrance. The Bratva had deep roots in the city, and any public appearance by its high-ranking members was bound to draw attention.

I stepped out first, fixing my jacket before turning to open Giselle’s door. She accepted my hand, her fingers grazing mine as she emerged from the car.

A current rippled through me, making my throat dry. This woman had a certain effect on me that I found really troublesome. I had to address it later.

She looped her arm through mine and smiled at me, then she leaned in and whispered, “Does this work?”

I nodded, inhaling the soft warmth of her breath as it caressed my neck. “It’s perfect.”

I threw the car key to a valet in front of us and led her into the hotel. Through the corner of my eyes, I noticed as she took in the grandeur of the place—obscene chandeliers, marble floors, and an atmosphere thick with expensive perfume and rich gossip. The entire place was a spectacle of wealth and power.

We weaved through the crowd, with me nodding at familiar faces, only stopping for a brief talk when I met Antonio Morozov, the host of the event. He was a chubby old man in his fifties, rich as fuck, and owned large businesses in New York and the whole continent of North America.

“Andrei Yezhov,” he exclaimed as he approached, holding a glass of champagne and wearing his funny smile. No one would assume the amount of bloodshed he was capable of if they judged him by his looks alone. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“It would be rude to not honor your invitation.”

“You haven’t changed one bit,” he said with a chuckle, and then his gaze fleeted to Giselle. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”

I wrapped my arm around Giselle’s waist and pulled her closer. “She’s my fiancée, Giselle Rae. I believe you’ve heard of her.”

“Ah, yes, I have.” Antonio’s gaze swept over Giselle, and he held out a hand. “The rumors said she was a beauty to behold. I must admit she’s a lot prettier in person.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” Giselle responded before I could, stretching her hand out to Antonio. “I’m flattered.”

He kissed the back of her hand, his lips lingering a little longer than I thought was necessary. “I’m glad I could make you feel that way.”

To my surprise, Giselle didn’t pull her hand away; she just wore that alluring smile and allowed him to do his thing.

A ball of jealousy bubbled inside me. I didn’t like his lips or hands on her, and I certainly didn’t like that she was smiling at him so widely that her emerald eyes sparkled with delight.

I didn’t care that I was being irrational; I should be the only one who could pull that sort of emotion from her, not him or any other man.

Antonio finally released Giselle’s hand after what seemed like an eternity, though the smug smile on Giselle’s face as she peered at me told me she allowed him to do that on purpose. She wanted to get a rise out of me, and I hated the fact that it was working.

He took a sip of his champagne, smiling like a teenager who had just invited his crush to prom. Antonio had been married five times, and he had more mistresses than even he himself could keep up with. If anything, I found him acting like a sweet, innocent old man repelling.

“You should make out time for us to meet again soon, Andrei. We have business to discuss.”

“I’m booked and busy these days. I’m certain you’ve heard of the missing shipment; we’re trying to recover it.”

He nodded and speared Giselle a suspicious glance. “Any luck so far? I heard something really interesting.”

I knew what he was about to say. He heard about Giselle being the clue to the missing shipment and now he wanted to extract information from me.

“What did you hear?”

He looked like he was considering whether to tell me or not. He made his decision after a moment, though. “We’ll talk about it next time. For now, I think you should just have some fun with your fiancée.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Giselle cut me off before I could even start. “Thank you very much. You’re so sweet.”

Before I could steer Giselle away, someone else interrupted.

“Yezhov,” a deep, smooth voice called out, drawing my attention.

I turned to see Viktor Volkov, an associate from the Bratva in Russia, standing beside us with a glass of whiskey in hand. He was a tall, well-groomed man with sharp blue eyes and a reputation for being both charming and dangerous—a combination I wasn’t particularly fond of at the moment.

“Volkov,” I greeted curtly, keeping my arm around Giselle’s waist. I didn’t care that I was acting extra possessive of her tonight as long as it kept the other men away from her.

His gaze slid to her with blatant interest. “And who might this stunning woman be?”

“My fiancée,” I said, my voice firm. “Giselle Rae.”

A slow, knowing smile curled on Viktor’s lips as he took her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles, much like Antonio had done. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Rae.”

Giselle, ever the charmer, responded with an easy smile. “Likewise, Mr.—”

“Please, call me Viktor,” he said with a smile, holding her hand just a second too long before finally letting go. His attention remained fixed on her as he took a sip of his whiskey. “I didn’t know you were engaged to such a gorgeous woman at that.”

I could sniff his intentions from a mile away. Bloody horny bastard. It was the first time I’d ever felt the need to put a bullet between someone’s head for something that wasn’t related to mafia business.

A slow smile played on my lips. It was more like a warning for him to steer clear. “Now you do.”

He ignored my warning and smiled even wider at Giselle. She smiled back. I regretted telling her to smile; I should have told her to do the opposite. “Would you do me the honor of a dance, Miss Rae?”

I stiffened, my grip tightening on Giselle’s waist. “She—”

“I would love to,” Giselle interrupted, turning to face me with a teasing glint in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.

She was trying to drive me to the edge with jealousy, and it was working.

My jaw ticked, but I didn’t argue. I simply held her gaze, silently warning her that this game she was playing was dangerous. She only smiled, slipping her hand into Viktor’s as he led her toward the dance floor.

My blood simmered as I watched them dance.

Viktor pulled her close, his hand pressing against the small of her back while they moved to the slow rhythm of the music.

She looked up at him, laughing at something he whispered, and I felt my fingers curl into fists.

This was what jealousy felt like. It was something I’d never imagined I would be in the position to experience, yet here I was, veins bulging and eyes red. I could barely think straight or keep my composure.

I grabbed a glass of whiskey from the table behind me and finished it in one long gulp. The liquor burned down my throat, but it did nothing to dull the bitterness curling inside me as the world blurred, leaving only the sight of both of them together to burn into my memory.

Viktor spun her around, wrapping his arm around her waist this time and bringing his face closer to hers.

That was all it took for me to snap.

I slammed the now empty glass on the table, and before I knew it, I was striding over to them. I didn’t care to hide my displeasure as I pulled Giselle away from him and hauled her closer to myself.

My brows furrowed. “That’s enough dancing with my fiancée.”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of Viktor’s mouth. “Your fiancée is a delight to be around. I must’ve kept her longer than I intended because I genuinely enjoyed her company.”

Delight.

I almost chuckled at the word. The sly fox really thought living in England for a couple of months made him British.

I returned his corny smile with one of my own. “I’d appreciate it if you could step to the side. I’d love a dance with my fiancée now.”

He nodded at me with indifference and flashed a smile at Giselle. “See you around later.” He strode off after that.

Like hell you will.

Giselle’s gaze locked on mine, and her lips twitched. “Was that you being jealous just now?”

I snaked an arm around her waist, and she placed one of hers on my shoulder. “Weren’t you doing it to get a rise out of me?”

“Was I?” She gave me a taunting smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is there something else you love aside from taking women hostage and being a possessive jerk to keep other men away?”

“Possessive jerk,” I repeated in a low voice. If a man had said that to me, he’d be bleeding all over the polished floor, but Giselle could get away with anything. “I don’t take women hostage.”

“Hmmm,” she muttered with a cock of her head. “I wonder what the word is for you holding me hostage.”

“I’m keeping you safe until we find the shipment.”

She nodded slowly. “That sounds very reassuring, Mr. Yezhov, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

There wasn’t much I liked aside from coming up with solutions and the thrill of bloodshed. But there were a few, like new suits and shiny new guns.

She wouldn’t like to hear that, though, so I came up with something else. “Cookies.”

Her eyes gleamed as she laughed. “You? Cookies? That’s surprising.”

My chest warmed as I watched her laugh. “Is it?”

She nodded. “Lucky for you, though, I love to bake. If you’re good to me, I might bake you cookies someday.”

The corners of my lips quirked. “I guess I’ll have to be really good to you then.”

The music was over before I knew it, and we finished our dance with me twirling her effortlessly across the room. We bowed to each other, but just as she was about to back away, her legs caught mine, and she stumbled forward. Her arms flailed, and a gasp left her lips.

My instincts took over, and I caught her, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist while the other steadied her hand in mine.

She pressed against me, her emerald eyes wide with surprise as they locked onto mine. Her fingers tightened around my shoulder, her lips parted just slightly, and I could feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest.

The tension between us was palpable, and in that moment, the entire world came to a halt, leaving just the two of us.

For a second, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke.

I took her in, felt the warmth of her body against mine. The pull between us was intense and undeniable. I couldn’t wrap my head around why I was deeply drawn to her, but everything about this woman had an effect on me that I didn’t think was possible.

I should’ve let her go. I should’ve stepped back and created a distance between us. But I didn’t.

Instead, I held her a moment longer, my grip firm and my gaze locked on hers. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, her scent intoxicating, and fuck if I didn’t want to tilt her chin up and press my mouth to hers right then and there.

I could tell from the way her chest heaved with each breath that she felt the same way. I wasn’t the only person drunk with desire; she was, too.

If all of this was a game, and one of us was going to get burned at the end of it all, I would happily dive into the fire and swim through the flames.

Without a second thought, I said the words I’d been holding back. “You’re mine, solnishko . Only mine.”