Page 1 of Twisted Proposal

CHAPTER1

ARTEM

Iknew taking this meeting was a mistake the moment I agreed to it.

Zaitsev had been relentless, hounding me for days, desperate for a deal.

That alone set my teeth on edge.

Desperate men made reckless decisions.

And Zaitsev? He was a fool. Brash, impulsive, lacking the foresight needed to survive in our world. And his son, Matvey, was even worse.

When I pulled up to the isolated cabin nestled deep in the Virginia woods, my instincts screamed danger. It was too remote, too perfect for an ambush.

My men swept the perimeter while I waited in the Range Rover, my patience wearing thinner with each passing minute.

"Clear," one of my men murmured through my earpiece.

I stepped out into the biting winter air, snow crunching beneath my boots. The cabin loomed before me, its windows glowing with warm light that promised a comfort I knew wouldn't be found inside.

When I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the stench of fear hit me first.

Then I saw her.

Huddled on a weathered wooden chair in the center of the room, her head bowed, lush, chestnut brown hair spilling over her shoulders, hiding her face. Ropes cut into her wrists, binding her, but there was no mistaking the tension in her shoulders.

Fury burned through me, sharp and immediate.

My fingers twitched with the need to curl into a fist.

Zaitsev emerged from the shadows, his son lurking behind him like the coward he was. Both men grinned as if they'd presented me with a gift rather than a twisted indecency.

In my world, women were protected and sheltered from the brutal reality of our business.

"Artem, my friend." He stretched out a hand in greeting.

"We are not friends." I pointedly ignored his outstretched hand. "And I don't recall giving you permission to use my given name."

He hesitated, his son shifting uneasily behind him.

The air in the cabin grew thick with tension.

My men flanked the doorway, blocking any chance of escape.

A small sound came from the woman—not a cry or a whimper.

Just a sharp inhale of barely restrained pain.

My fury sharpened to a lethal edge.

I met Zaitsev's eyes; he was going to see the moment I decided he wasn't leaving this cabin alive.

"We had to secure our merchandise." He gave a dismissive wave, dropping into a chair opposite his captive. "She can be…stubborn. Nothing a firm hand won’t fix.”

My gaze remained fixed on the woman bound in the chair.

I let the silence stretch like a stranglehold around his throat.