Page 15

Chapter 15

Love Like a Loaded Gun

Vasiliyi

I gor doesn’t knock. He never does. But today, he doesn’t even pretend to play civilized. He barrels into my office like a battering ram, the door slamming so hard it makes the walls flinch.

“What the fuck is she doing here?”

The “she” needs no clarification. Only one woman lives rent-free in Igor’s head with that much venom.

My jaw tightens, but I keep my expression unreadable. “She works here.”

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind.” He slams both fists on my desk, scattering papers like pigeons at a gunshot. “After everything she did to Katya? To us?”

“The Velvet Echo benefits from her experience.”

“Experience?” His voice drops into a seething whisper. “Her experience is destroying everything she touches. Or did you forget what her name means to our family?”

Katya’s bruised face flickers behind my eyes, the memory sharper than I like to admit. But this—this fury in Igor’s voice—it isn’t loyalty. It’s control slipping through his fingers. And that makes him dangerous.

“This isn’t about Galina,” I say quietly, stepping around my desk. “This is about you. About the fact that I’ve taken your broken kingdom and started reforging it into something stronger. Something you don’t get to oversee.”

His eyes narrow. “You think I care who’s in your bed?”

“No.” I pause. “But you care that you can’t touch her. You care that the daughter of Boris Olenko is standing in the middle ofmyclub. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

“You arrogant fuck.” He yanks at his tie like it’s choking him. “You think she’s here for the business? She’s here to take everything back. You’re just the fool letting her do it.”

“Until I say otherwise,” I say evenly, “she stays. She’s earned her place.”

He laughs, brittle and mean. “Right. ‘Earned.’ That what we’re calling it now?”

I take another step closer, letting the full weight of my presence pin him in place. “Careful, Igor.”

“You’re screwing her. And now you’re letting her get close to the heart of the operation. You want my opinion?” He leans in. “Put her face to work. Use her to clean up the front-end. Let her be the pretty mask for what this place really is.”

“Say that again,” I whisper, voice turning lethal.

“You’re letting your dick make decisions,” he growls. “And it’s going to cost you.”

“This ismykingdom.” I stare him down, ice sliding through my veins. “My rules. My people.”

“Your people?” He sneers. “You actually think she’s one of yours?”

“I trust what I see. And what I see is potential. What I don’t see,” I add, low and deliberate, “is any place for you to question me. You gave me this club as payment. Now step the fuck aside.”

His lips curl into something between a threat and a warning. “Dig your grave, Volkov. When she burns it all down, don’t come crying to me.”

“Maybe she will.” I retake my seat, settling into my chair like a king taking his throne. “But if this place goes up in flames, Igor, I’ll be the one holding the match.”

He stands there for a beat too long, like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t. He just clenches the door handle like he could tear it off and storms out, leaving behind a silence that feels like fallout.

The door slams.

I stare at the scattered mess on my desk, still vibrating with the aftershocks. Igor’s wrong about a lot, but not about the risk.

Keeping Galina close is dangerous.

But not because she might burn me.

Because I might let her.

And in our world, love is the deadliest weakness of all.

“Jaromir.” My voice cuts through the intercom.

“Sir?”

“Get up here. Now.”

He arrives moments later, quiet as a ghost but wound tight enough to snap.

“Boss,” he says, eyes flicking over the room like he expects to find blood already.

“The designer,” I say, cutting straight to it. “Are they delivering?”

Jaromir hesitates. That alone tells me everything.

“Want the truth?”

“Always.”

“We’re screwed.” He drags a hand down his face. “The first show will make or break the relaunch. Right now, we’ve got only pieces—no vision, no heat, no buzz. Word spreads fast in this world. And the wrong word already has.”

“Any ideas?”

“New designer. Yesterday.” His voice hardens. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Who?”

He doesn’t even pause. “Galina. This was her idea, her domain. She knows these people. She speaks that language.”

My jaw flexes. “Her idea. Her world.”

He nods. “We know guns and margins. She knows couture.”

I wave him off, and he goes.

But the itch under my skin doesn’t leave. It’s not just the business. It’s the pressure. The need for control. And the craving that’s been riding me harder with every passing hour.

I pace the length of the office, a storm wound too tight. Galina’s name beats against my skull like a war drum. I try to resist. I fail.

“Send in Galina,” I growl into the intercom.

I need her. I hate that I do. Because she’s already mine, and I can’t fucking breathe without the scent of her in the room.

She knocks once, then enters like she owns the place. Rumpled, wary. Her guard’s up, but I see something flickering under the surface. Fatigue. Secrets. Something she hasn’t told me.

“Jaromir says we need a new designer,” I say.

She doesn’t blink. “We do. I can get you someone.”

I tilt my head, eyes narrowing. “I’ve heard whispers. That before the catwalks, you used to design.”

Her expression doesn’t flinch, but her fingers twitch, a nervous tic I’ve already memorized.

“I’ve dabbled,” she says. “But it’s been years.”

“Were you any good?”

She hesitates. “Good enough.”

“Then it’s decided. You’re the new designer.”

“Wait—”

My look silences her.

“This was your vision. Now make it real.”

She steps forward, the predator in her returning with every click of her heels. “Then I want control. Creative director. Second only to you.”

My lips twitch. The ambition in her voice is intoxicating.

“And what do I get in return?”

She leans in, voice low and sultry. “A club that becomes a legend. A name whispered in penthouses and black cars. We decide who gets in. Who doesn’t. Who kneels.”

The way she says it... It’s not just business. It’s seduction. Of power. Of me.

“Done.”

She glides to my desk, trailing fire in her wake. “Then I want it in writing. Role, salary, title. All of it.”

I stand, towering over her. “Getting bold, lisichka .”

She meets my gaze, unblinking. “Getting smart.”

I don’t give her a warning, I just take. One hand grips her waist, the other drags her tight against my body. My mouth finds her ear, and I let her feel exactly what she does to me.

“New contract. Fine. But the old terms still apply. You’re mine.”

Her breath hitches. She nods.

“Good girl.”

I release her, watching the way she stumbles slightly before finding her poise again. She says nothing, just slips from the room with that same silent grace that haunts me long after the door clicks shut.