Page 13 of Shatter Me (Beautiful Monsters #2)

13

DMITRI

I scan the room, cataloging every detail while appearing completely at ease. The champagne flows freely as donors mingle beneath crystal chandeliers. Still, my attention focuses on one scene that makes me see red.

Gregory Matthews hovers over Tash like a vulture, his meaty hand resting on her bare arm. She's wearing a black cocktail dress with just enough skin to be provocative while remaining professional.

"Fascinating perspective on the new Kandinsky acquisition," Matthews drawls, leaning closer to her than necessary. "I'd love to hear more about your plans for the modern wing over dinner."

Tash's laugh carries across the room, practiced and polite. Her eyes flick to mine for a fraction of a second before returning to Matthews. "The board's vision for the collection is ambitious."

I take a measured sip of scotch, watching as Matthews' hand slides down to the small of her back. My grip tightens on the crystal tumbler.

"Speaking of collections..." Matthews continues, "I recently acquired several pieces that would complement your Russian exhibit beautifully. Perhaps we could discuss a potential loan agreement?"

"How generous." Tash's smile doesn't reach her eyes. She glances my way again, this time letting her gaze linger. "Though any major acquisitions would need board approval, of course."

I recognize her game. The subtle looks, the way she angles her body toward Matthews while ensuring I have a clear view. She's trying to provoke a reaction.

Matthews leans in to whisper something in her ear. Her shoulders stiffen slightly, but she forces another laugh, touching his arm in return.

The scotch burns my throat as I drain the glass. I've spent the past week respecting her space after our argument but watching this buffoon paw at her tests the limits of my control.

When she meets my eyes again, I don't mask my expression. Let her see exactly what I think of her little performance. Her breath catches, visible even from across the room.

Matthews remains oblivious, droning on about his art collection while his hand wanders.

I signal the bartender for another scotch, my eyes never leaving the spectacle across the room. Matthews has grown bolder with each passing minute, his fingers trailing patterns on Tash's arm.

The crystal tumbler appears before me. I don't acknowledge the server.

Tash laughs at something Matthews says, placing her hand on his chest. The gesture sets my teeth on edge. She's playing her role perfectly—the attentive curator entertaining a wealthy potential donor—too perfectly.

"Your dress is exquisite," Matthews says, loud enough to carry. "Is it vintage?"

"Good eye." Tash turns in a slow circle, allowing his hand to brush her waist. "1950s Dior."

Ice clinks against crystal as I take another drink. She knows exactly what she's doing and knows I'm watching her little performance. Each casual touch, each coy smile, is designed to push me closer to the edge.

Matthews steps closer, emboldened by her receptiveness. His fingers trace the neckline of her dress, lingering longer than propriety allows. "The craftsmanship is remarkable. These details..."

I catch the way her smile tightens for a fraction of a second. But she doesn't step back. Doesn't remove his hand. Instead, she tilts her head, exposing the curve of her neck as she examines the sleeve he's now touching.

The scotch burns but does nothing to dull the darkness spreading through my chest. She's taking this game too far, letting that oaf's hands wander where they don't belong. My fingers flex around the tumbler, imagining how satisfying it would feel to wrap them around Matthews' throat instead.

Tash's eyes find mine again. A challenge burns in their depths as she allows Matthews to guide her toward the bar, his hand still possessively placed on her lower back.

I watch Tash excuse herself, her heels clicking against marble as she heads for the corridor. Matthews' eyes follow her retreat with predatory interest. He waits a few seconds, then sets down his drink and follows.

My jaw clenches. The crystal tumbler threatens to shatter in my grip. I set it down, my hands itching to wrap around Matthews' throat instead.

I trail behind him, maintaining enough distance to avoid detection. The corridor stretches long and empty ahead, soft sconces casting shadows on the walls. Matthews' footsteps echo as he increases his pace.

Tash emerges from the ladies' room, freezing, when she spots Matthews lounging against the wall. He straightens, blocking her path.

"Leaving so soon?" His voice carries down the hallway. "I was hoping we could continue our discussion somewhere more private."

"Mr. Matthews, I should return to the party." Tash's tone remains professional, but I catch the edge of tension.

He steps closer, backing her against the wall. "Come now, we both know why you've been flirting all evening."

"I was being polite. Nothing more." Her words come sharp and clear.

Matthews plants one meaty hand beside her head, leaning in. "Don't play coy now, sweetheart. You've been asking for this all night."

Something snaps inside my chest. The careful restraint I've maintained all evening shatters like glass.

My footsteps are silent as I close the distance. Matthews doesn't notice my approach, too focused on cornering his prey. Tash's eyes meet mine over his shoulder, a mix of relief and triumph in their depths.

She played me. Deliberately provoked this exact scenario.

But that knowledge does nothing to temper the rage coursing through my veins as I watch Matthews' unwanted advances. If anything, it feeds the darkness rising inside me.

I grip Matthews' shoulder, fingers digging into the pressure point beneath his collarbone. His yelp of pain echoes through the corridor as I wrench him away from Tash.

"Mr. Matthews." My voice comes out soft and controlled. Deadly. "I believe you've had too much to drink."

He stumbles, face reddening as he realizes who I am. "Mr. Ivanov! I was just?—"

"Leaving." I twist his arm behind his back, using the leverage to march him several steps down the hall. Leaning close to his ear, I switch to a whisper. "If I ever see you touch her again, they won't find enough pieces to identify the body."

Matthews' face drains of color. He knows my reputation in the business world. Still, he has no idea of the true depths of my capabilities or the bodies already buried in shallow graves.

"It was a misunderstanding," he stammers. "I didn't realize she was?—"

I increase the pressure on his arm until he whimpers. "Your membership at the museum has been revoked. Your collection is no longer welcome. Leave. Now."

I release him with a shove. He stumbles, clutching his shoulder as he practically runs toward the exit.

Turning back to Natasha, I find her watching me with wide eyes. This is her first time witnessing this side of me—the careful mask of civility stripped away to reveal the predator beneath.

"Are you okay?" I ask, forcing my voice back to its usual smooth tone.

She nods. "I didn't expect him to follow me."

"Didn't you?" I step closer, caging her against the wall where Matthews had her trapped moments ago. "You've been provoking a reaction all evening."

Her breath catches. "Not from him."

"No." I trace one finger along her jaw. "You wanted to see what I would do. How far you could push before I snapped." I lean in until my lips brush her ear. "Be careful what you wish for, kulkolka . You might not like what happens when I lose control."

I brush my thumb across her jaw, savoring how her pulse quickens beneath my touch. "You have terrible aim, by the way. That paperweight missed me by at least three feet."

"Next time, I won't miss." Tash's eyes flash with lingering anger.

"Is that why you put on this little show with Matthews? Revenge for the board meeting?"

"Not everything revolves around you, Dmitri." She tries to step away, but my arm blocks her path.

"No? So you weren't trying to make me jealous by letting that oaf paw at you all evening?"

"I was being professional with a potential donor."

I lean closer, inhaling her perfume. "Professional doesn't involve batting your eyelashes and touching his chest. You wanted me to see it. To react."

"You're delusional."

"Am I? Then explain why you kept looking at me while he touched you. Making sure I was watching your little performance."

Her cheeks flush. "I didn't?—"

"Don't lie to me. I see right through you." I trace my finger down her neck, feeling her shiver. "You're angry that I left you alone in that office. That I maintained professional distance at the board meeting. So you decided to push my buttons."

"Go to hell."

"Such fire." I chuckle against her ear. "But we both know the truth. You orchestrated this entire scenario. Led Matthews on, made sure I was watching, then wandered off alone, knowing he would follow. Knowing I would follow."

Her silence confirms my words. I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, finding defiance mixed with desire in those green depths.

"Next time you want my attention," I murmur, "try asking for it instead of playing games. It's less likely to end with me having to dispose of a body."

Her eyes widen at my comment. "What do you mean by 'dispose of a body'?"

I trace my thumb across her bottom lip, savoring the way her eyes flutter shut. "Anyone who touches what belongs to me pays the price, kulkolka . Matthews is lucky I was feeling merciful tonight."

"I don't belong to you." Her voice wavers, betraying her uncertainty.

"No?" I lean in, letting my lips hover a breath away from hers. The heat of her skin calls to me, begging me to close that final distance. To claim what's mine.

Instead, I pull back, denying us both. Her frustrated exhale sends a surge of satisfaction through my chest.

"You're an arrogant bastard," she snaps, hands clenched.

"And you're beautiful when you're angry." I step away, watching color flood her cheeks. The way her chest heaves with indignation. "Keep telling yourself you don't belong to me. We both know the truth."

I turn and walk away, leaving her fuming in the hallway. Her rage follows me like perfume, sweet and intoxicating. She's not the only one who knows how to play games.