Page 94 of Under His Control

“I can’t understand you. Slow down.”

More broken sounds, then a ragged groan so raw my blood ices over.

Anatoly sits upright—every muscle alert. He mouthslocation?

“Chris, honey, look around. Look for a street sign, store name, anything.”

The phone scrapes—like it’s sliding across concrete—then someone else picks up. A smooth baritone I’d know anywhere.

“Hello, Taylor.”

Damas.

Anatoly’s head jerks, eyes flaring to a lethal brightness. “Where are you?” he snaps. “And what the hell have you done to my wife’s brother?”

Silence, followed by a chuckle that slithers down my spine. “Relax, brother. Our friend simply overindulged—again.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss. “Chris is sober now.”

Static hush. A distant smack, then Chris’s muffled yelp.

I bolt off the bed, one hand fisting the sheet around me, the other strangling the phone. “Stop it! He paid his debt. Weallpaid!”

“Not to me,” Damas says, voice honey-thick and sinister. “Your brother owes me a debt of respect.”

Anatoly’s fist smashes the mattress. “Put him on!”

More scuffling, then Chris sobbing something unintelligible.

“Damas, please,” I beg, tears breaking free. “What do you want?”

CHAPTER 38

ANATOLY

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

My voice is low, dangerous. The kind of tone that makes most men think twice about pushing me. But Damas has never known when to back the fuck down.

He sighs dramatically on the other end of the line, like I’m the one being difficult. “Your wife’s little brother came to me,” he says. “Begging for a line of credit. Wanted to play little rich boy with his new Bratva friends.”

Taylor gasps. “How much?”

I already know the answer won’t matter. Damas doesn’t do favors, he sets traps.

“I’ll only talk terms with Anatoly,” he says. “Privately.”

“He’smybrother!” she snaps.

I press a hand to her arm, steadying her. Her skin is cold. She’s shaking.

I take him off speaker and lift the phone to my ear, jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

A pause, then “TheHospitium. Free and clear.”

His response knocks the air out of me.

“What the fuck, Damas?” My voice rises, my control buckling for a second before I rein it in. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”