Chapter 7

Before we go to my car, I excuse myself and tell Lia I need to make a call. My manhood is still so hard after what we did. I don't think she realizes how hot she sounded when her orgasm hit, the sounds of pure desire making my dick even harder. Her underwear was soaked, making my tip ache, precome spilling hotly out of me.

On the phone, I call ahead to one of the many stores the Sokolovs own. I explain to the manager that I want him to leave the keys outside so that Lia and I can have the place to ourselves. It feels crappy having to sneak around, but I still have to remember that if Nikolai gets word I'm with another woman, things could go south very fast. I hate that my father's twisted scheme is interfering with me and the only woman I've ever given a damn about.

After, I call Mikhail. He's been working hard on the computer front, narrowing down our options to around seven people, all with some connection to the Petrovs.

"Any news?" I ask.

"It'll be hunting time soon," he tells me. "I've narrowed it down to six. With a couple of days of tailing and data gathering, we'll have our marks. Then you don't need to marry Mila."

I swallow, hating the thought of marrying her, of tying someone to me against their will, of being with anybody who isn't Lia. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"What if we hit the deadline? Will you do it?"

"I know what you're going to say. I have to put the family and the business first. I get it."

"No, actually," Mikhail grunts. "I was going to say… fuck Nikolai. Why should we let him dictate what the Sokolovs do?"

"That would mean a war," I say. "We need to catch this early and learn who Nikolai has turned against us. A war won't be good for anyone, and why the sudden change of heart?"

There's a pause, and then Mikhail snaps, "Is it so bad looking out for my big brother?"

When he hangs up, I turn back into the office. Lia is back at her easel, touching up a few features on my father's painting. I watch as she signs her name in the corner.

"It's done?" I say.

She turns to me, her cheeks still flushed. I don't think she realizes the pencil in her hair has come loose, her bun unfurling into beautiful waviness. "Yep, all finished."

"When does the bidding start?"

"Oh, I was going to give it to you… as a gift."

How can I be so moved by the way she says this? Hopeful, unsure, excited, and doubtful all at the same time. I'm still stunned by her intuition. Knowing nothing about my father's true nature, she's painted him dark, brooding, and sinister.

"Or is it weird?" she says, looking at me doubtfully. "Offensive?"

"At the funeral, I thought I might suddenly fill with love for my old man. I thought there was a chance, but I can't change reality. I can't change who he was. The painting's perfect, Lia."

Her glowing smile of satisfaction makes me smile like a fool. I almost take her hand and lead her outside, but what if one of my employees sees us? What if the word somehow gets back to Nikolai?

Instead, I say, "Shall we?"

Walking into the parking lot and over to my car, I think of Mila, comparing her to Lia. It's just not close. It's not even like it's because Lia is more attractive, alluring, cuter, and sassier. It's not her smarts, her smile, or her fire. It's just a feeling, a primal howl, telling me that Lia is the one for me.

If we mess up and the deadline hits, what else am I supposed to do? Let Nikolai tear the city to pieces?

"You don't have to do that," she says when I open the passenger-side door for her.

"I know; I want to. Now get in."

She laughs. "Work hours are over, but I guess the boss can't stop bossing just like that, huh?"

I grin, but there's a dark edge deep inside me. She still doesn't know who I really am. I get into the driver's seat and guide us through the city. My windows are tinted, and we're not touching, but annoying nerves still try to grip me. It pisses me off. I shouldn't have to be paranoid just sitting in the car with Lia.

"Are you okay?" she asks quietly.

"Fine," I tell her.

"It's probably been a tough week… even if your feelings about your dad are confused."

"They're not confused," I tell her. "They're just bad, but we don't need to talk about that."

"We don't have to not talk about it, though," she says. "If you want to?"

There's no way for me to explain just how bad my father was without revealing that we're Bratva. There's something so refreshing about Lia not knowing. Other women, especially those who have been involved in the life for a long time, automatically throw themselves at me. I hate it. It's always felt so wrong. I never knew why until I met Lia.

"There's no need," I say. "The past is the past."

"It can still hurt, sometimes," she murmurs, staring at the road.

"Is there something you want to talk about, Lia?"

She wraps her arms around herself. I meant what I said before. Every time she does that, her big, delicious tits press together. My dick gets hard again, precome smearing my underwear. "That's not how this works, Dimitri."

"Then let's just enjoy our shopping trip, eh?"

When I reach a red light, she looks at me with a mixture of excitement and fear. Maybe I can read it easily because the same mixture surges through me. "Okay, Dimitri. We don't have to get serious."

She's got some sass in her voice, but she doesn't push the issue. When I tell her who I finally am… No, I don't want to think about that now. Just like I don't want to think about my wife-to-be. Hell, what am I doing here? What am I—No, I need to focus on the here and now. As hard as that is. But it's not fair to Lia, leading her on, and yet here I am. Doing it anyway.

"All my life," I tell her, "I've had to think about the future since I was a kid, and my father was grooming me for… the company. With you, Lia, it's easy to be present. I don't think I knew what being present meant before I met you."

I didn't mean for all that to spill out, but when she places her hand on my arm, the warm skin-on-skin contact tells me it means something to her. Soon, I pull up outside the store.

"It looks like it's closed," Lia says. "And… I mean, this place? A pair of pants probably cost like two hundred bucks!"

"You're worth it," I tell her, "and you're right. It's closed, but I've got the key. You can have anything you want."

Now, she tries not to look excited but can't hide how the corner of her lip twitches. She can't stop her perfect eyes from sparkling with anticipation. "I'll just get something cheap," she says. "I'm happy to pay."

"You'll get whatever you want," I tell her, "and you're not paying a single penny."

She walks around the upscale store, her mouth sometimes falling open before she stubbornly closes it.

"What?" she says, turning away from a sparkly gold dress to give me the most beautiful glare I've ever seen.

"Nothing," I say innocently.

"I'm just looking."

"You can do more than look."

"This dress is over a thousand bucks!" she says, holding the tag up to emphasize her words.

I take both her hands, knowing I'll never tire of how she feels, the warmth and the closeness. "You're worth far, far more than that, Lia. Don't forget your underwear…"

Leading her into the lingerie section, her hand tightens around mine. Maybe I'm going nuts, but I'm sure I can feel the drumming of her heartbeat through her hand.

"One hundred bucks for a set," she says, gasping, and, sickly, I find myself thinking of what Mila said about how she's always had the best of things in her life. I hate comparing them—there is no comparison. But the threat of what I might have to do is aimed at me like the barrel of a gun

"You'd look good in that one." I gesture to a frilly set with a little bow on the bra and panties, trying my best to shut the voices in my head up. Smoothing my hand to her lower back, I inch down to her ass, feeling her thickness. "You'll be like a gift, ready for me to unwrap…"

She shifts her ass against me. It's so hot when she does that. It's like it's not even on purpose. She can't help herself when she feels my touch.

"It's so expensive," she murmurs.

"How many times do I have to?—"

She spins to face me, bursting with passion. "Just because you're rich doesn't mean a dollar's not worth a dollar. This is a full month's rent."

That she even has to think about money is wrong. She deserves a life where she never has to worry about stuff like that. She should be able to focus on her art and anything else that interests her, not scrubbing toilets so she can barely make the rent for a rundown apartment.

"If you're unsure, try it on," I tell her, "and let me be the judge…"

She bites down, her cheeks flaring red again. Ever since the orgasm, it's like her body has become even more readable to me.

"You want to see me in it?" she says.

I lean down and kiss her passionately, squeezing her hips and sinking my hands in. Fuck. Maybe this was a mistake. The second I kiss her, the second I feel her, I only want more. She gasps through the kiss when I pick her up and sit her on a display unit, grinding my manhood against her, feeling her slit through her tights, feeling her heat.

She moans, gripping onto my shoulders, as I slide my hand up her leg. The doors are locked and closed. The blinds are drawn. Nobody's in here except for my woman and me.

Except that's a goddamn lie I'm telling myself. Nobody else is physically in the room with us, but Mila's always hovering, the prospect that I'm going to have to ruin two women's lives before this is over. First my Lia—shattering our dreams of being together. And then Mila by making her my wife when I can tell she doesn't want to.

"Oh, fuck," I growl as I pull her tights down and slide my hand into Lia's underwear, trying to force those fucked-up thoughts away. They've got no place here

She grabs my wrist again, staring up at me, her chest rising and falling quickly.

"I want your naked pussy," I groan. "I want to feel your tight hole. I need to feel you getting tight and needy around my finger. Then I can imagine it's my cock sliding into you instead?—"

Suddenly, there's a loud bang. The windows shatter—footsteps, shouting, a gunshot. People are running toward us. I don't have time to think.

Diving at Lia, I haul her over my shoulder and sprint to the rear of the building, kicking open the door to the main office and closing it behind me. Putting Lia down, I immediately grab the large desk and pull it over to the door, just in time for the attackers to start pounding against it.

The door rattles. The desk judders up and down. Lia makes a slight sound of fear.

I move close to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders as I take my gun from the holster with the other.

"You have a gun?" she hisses in shock.

I lead her to the corner of the room near a bookshelf. "Stay here," I tell her. "Cover your ears. Cover your eyes. You don't need to see what happens next."

She slumps against the wall. Her expression is heartbreaking. I can see her mind putting the pieces together, finally figuring out I'm not just a CEO. I'm somebody she should be afraid of. She's right—she should. And not just for the reason she thinks. I could end up dragging her into a criminal underworld, that's true. But I've already betrayed her. I've already led her down a road that can only end in disaster.

I could break her heart. I could get her killed. But I still can't even imagine letting her go.