Page 16

It had been an awfully long few days already since we had sex—a few days that felt like an eternity. Clarice had been living rent-free in my head, and I couldn’t seem to get her out. I didn’t want to anyway. The experience with her was nothing short of phenomenal, and it had awakened something in me, something I’d yet to name.

Since the incident, I hadn’t been able to focus on anything other than Clarice Evelyn: the gorgeous therapist who had snaked her way into my stone-cold heart. I wasn’t the type to enjoy a woman’s company more than once, especially after sleeping with her. In most cases, I’d feel repulsed or irritated by them after satisfying my urge.

That was a jerk move for sure, but I never really gave a shit. I was always about my duty to the Bratva and the Tarasov family business; anything outside that was secondary.

However, things were different with this young, beautiful, and intelligent therapist. Clarice had defied everything that I stood for, and in this short period of time that I’d spent with her, I was starting to grow fond of her.

No woman had ever attempted to unlock this possessive part of me. In fact, I honestly didn’t think I’d be so proprietary with any woman. This was because I never saw them as a priority—not until Clarice came into the picture.

At first, I underestimated her ability to influence me. Hell, I thought I’d be the one to influence her. And perhaps I did, considering that she willingly slept with me. But what that only proved was that it was a two-way street. We both influenced one another.

My shoes, polished to a shine, clicked against the fine marble floor as I headed toward her office. With a hand buried in my pocket, I glided through the hallway, adorned with intricate carvings and designs.

Today, my mood was a lot lighter than usual, thanks to the soothing memories that occupied my mind. I could still hear her sweet moans in my head, and the images of her face, contorted in pleasure, prompted a small smile on my lips.

My heart raced with anticipation as I drew nearer to her office, eager to set my eyes on her. Taking her innocence had a much stronger influence on me than I had thought. I didn’t only reminisce on the good time we had; I was looking forward to it happening again.

I couldn’t seem to get enough of her. I wanted more and more, even though the relationship between us was unprofessional. Professionalism be damned! Nothing would stand in my way. I’d tasted her, and now I wouldn’t let anyone dare do the same. She was mine whether she realized it or not.

She’d surrendered herself to me and let me take her virginity, making me her very first. As satisfying and intriguing as that was, the feeling didn’t end there. No. It stirred up a sense of possessiveness within me, and I had already branded her as mine.

No one else would have access to her body as long as I lived, and the mere thought of another man with her caused my blood to boil. A fleeting scowl flashed across my face, and my fingers clenched into fists. My jaw tightened momentarily as I sought solace in the pain I’d inflict on whichever man would be unfortunate enough to go after her.

I drew a deep breath and halted outside her office, my hand reaching for the doorknob. I let out a quiet exhale and switched to a softer expression before opening the door.

Usually, I’d smell her perfume from the entrance, but something was off today. The scent that invaded my senses was a cologne, an unfamiliar fragrance that made me squint with suspicion.

I walked in, and my gaze fell on a middle-aged man seated in her chair. He wore a polite smile, his brown eyes pinned on me with a glint of fear and anxiety dancing in their depths.

The man’s brown suit exuded professionalism and style; however, he seemed to lack something—confidence. I could tell by the way his forehead was dampened with cold sweat that he was nervous.

Behind his nerdy-looking glasses, his eyes blinked rapidly, indicating his struggle to hold my intimidating gaze.

He cleared his throat and adjusted the rim of his glasses. “Mr. Tarasov, good morning.” He rose to his feet, offering to shake my hand. “I’m Dr. Harry Winfrey,” he said, his voice dripping with a British accent. “I’ll be handling your sessions from now on.”

My jaw tightened, and my scowl deepened as I ignored his outstretched hand, my gaze never leaving his face. “Where is she?” I questioned, my voice laced with venom.

His throat wobbled, his fingers adjusting the rim of his glasses.

“I said , where…is…she?” I repeated, taking a menacing step forward, my blood boiling with rage.

“She, uh…she’s—she’s been assigned to another case,” he stuttered, his scared eyes blinking rapidly and his voice trembling despite the professionalism he tried to exude. “Your case was transferred to me, Mr. Tarasov…. You’re my client now.” He drew a deep breath, struggling to stand his ground.

My brows furrowed, my eyes blazing with fury as I clenched my jaw, feeling a surge of anger jolt across my body. She did this on purpose. This was her lame attempt at avoiding me. Clarice was trying to distance herself from me.

The thought of that fueled my rage, and without a word, I stormed out of the office. For someone trying to help douse my anger issues, she sure just made a big mistake. Leaving me now when I needed her the most was a bad move, and it pissed me off.

I slammed the door shut on my way out, and the bang was loud enough that it startled the few bystanders, but I didn’t care.

She wouldn’t get away with this.