Page 7 of Sinful Hearts

He stumbles back, slamming into the door, and his skull makes athudagainst the wood.

“Technically,” I sneer, shaking out my hand, “that was just a love tap, you mouthy motherfucker.”

Aleksy lunges toward me, which I happily welcome, but Antonio steps between us. Aleksy stops in his tracks, refusing to break through Antonio.

I square my shoulders, staring Aleksy down in a silent dare.

Do it, you dumb motherfucker.

Give me an excuse to break every bone in your fucking face.

“All right,” Damien says, stepping to my side, as if ready to intercept me if Aleksy gets mouthy again. “Let’s work this out before someone ends up dead.”

“I don’t mind a few dead Russians.” I keep my glare on Aleksy.

Aleksy spits blood from his busted lip on the ornate rug. His jaw is already swelling, and I clench my fist, wishing I could punch the fucker again. My knuckles still tremble from the first blow, and it’s like they’re begging for a second go at him.

I shove aside a stack of paperwork on the desk, lean against it, and cross my arms while waiting for Aleksy’s pathetic excuse.

He wipes the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. “Dasha ran off.”

“Ran off where?” I pop my knuckles.

“We don’t know.” He slaps his lanky arms to his sides, looking too weak for my liking.

“Then why the fuck are youhere, playing Swap the Fucking Bride, instead of tracking her down?”

“We found out she was missing only thirty minutes ago,” Aleksy explains. “Liliya was here, so we made a judgment call. It’s a small change.”

“A small change?” Julian repeats with a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus. You’re talking about a woman like she’s a lunch order substitution.Sorry, we’re out of Dasha. How about a Liliya instead?” He grins. “Good thing my wife isn’t listening to this conversation. She’d tear you a new one.”

I shoot him a death glare.

He chuckles in amusement. The fucker clearly isn’t as pissed as I am about the situation, which only frustrates me further. I’m ready to punch him next.

“Look,” Antonio says in an all-business tone. “We can make this work.” He shoots me awork with melook. “She’s a Morozova woman. Be glad we found out the other was a runner before the wedding.”

“I won’t let Dasha get away with this,” Aleksy bites out. “When I find her, I’ll kill whoever helped her run off. Then you can wed her to any man of yours.” He presses his palm to his heart. “We’ll make this right, Antonio.”

I work my jaw, knowing I won’t let Aleksy off the hook for this.

But Antonio’s right. It’s not that big of a deal.

The issue is, he doesn’t know why I wanted the other sister.

Dasha was the safe option.

When I looked at her, there was nothing but disinterest. In the short conversation we had, I knew she wasn’t a bride I’d care about.

But her sister?

She’s a different story.

The moment I saw Liliya, she captured my attention. I’d never seen such a beautiful woman before. Her red dress clung to her every curve, and her heels brought her closer to my height. When she glanced at me, her green eyes burned in my direction. Her dark curls fell down her back, and I clenched my fist every time I thought about gripping those strands in my hand.

I wasn’t the only man who noticed her either. A stab of jealousy hit me anytime another man looked at her—an emotion I’d never felt before. Liliya was trouble—everything I shouldn’t want—and I was thankful she hadn’t been chosen as my bride.

I wanted to touch her, to fuck her, to possess her.