Page 9 of Twisted Proposal

I tugged on one long curl. "And yet you will be a good girl and obey my wishes."

The strand of hair wrapped around my finger was like silk, a delicate tether between us. I let it slide free slowly, deliberately, watching her eyelids flutter as my knuckles grazed her collarbone.

She swallowed. “Okay."

"Good girl."

I shifted away and called out for one of my men. After giving him instructions to see Viktoria safely back to her dorm, she started to follow him through the door. I called out to her one last time.

She turned, and for a brief moment, I reconsidered.

It was within my power to keep her.

Like the thought of having her in my bed, it came unbidden.

I raised my arm to draw her back to me.

The look she gave me then, both wary and wounded, also held a spark of something undefined that nearly undid my resolve.

The silence between us stretched taut with possibility.

I lowered my arm and curled my fingers into a fist at my side. "Do not forget our agreement."

CHAPTER4

ARTEM

When Viktoria left, I pulled out my phone and tracked the car that was taking her back home. There was no reason to.

I trusted my men to do as they were told, especially with such a simple errand. Still, something compelled me to sit and watch the blinking dot on the map get further and further away.

Something burned in my gut, an unfamiliar feeling of possessiveness.

I had to resist the urge to call the driver and have her brought back.

It wasn't until they were in her neighborhood that I closed the app and got to business.

I'd forget her soon enough.

My mind needed to stay focused on the matter at hand.

I was under no illusion that Viktoria didn't know exactly what would happen to her brother and father.

Ivanov men tried to shield their women from the realities of the family business to keep them safe.

Zaitsev clearly hadn't cared about his daughter's safety or peace of mind.

Why protect her when he could use her?

No, Viktoria knew a lot, but that didn't mean that she needed to be here while I got to work.

I headed down to the basement of the cabin, each step taking me deeper into the damp chill that clung to the walls.

I stepped into the room where both Zaitsev men were being held. The senior was sitting in a collapsible metal chair with his hands tied behind his back and his lip bleeding. Junior was on the floor, bleeding from a few different places, his eyes darting wildly around the room like a cornered rat.

"Problems?" I asked.

"The younger one got a little mouthy." Vladan, my second, shrugged. "When the old one came in, he had an issue with it, but it was resolved rather quickly."