Chapter 3

Tori

I stare at the closed office door, unsure of what to do or how to feel. Nik shifts in the doorway, catching my attention, and I feel my cheeks redden as embarrassment finally catching up with me. Words Marcus would often spit in my ear are buzzing around my mind, telling me I've gone too far this time, making me doubt my actions.

I hate the way Dmitry looked at me with . . . nothing. He gave me an empty look laced with disappointment. I subconsciously rub my hand over my chest where there's a dull ache from Dmitry's rejection. My adrenaline is dipping back to normal levels, leaving me shaken and weak.

I glance at the stairs. I haven't slept alone since I killed Marcus. We've also not gone a day without sex, and I realise now that maybe I've come to depend on it. The thought makes me shudder. I haven't depended on anyone my entire adult life, and most of my childhood, come to think of it.

I take a deep breath and shake out my shoulders. I fix Nik with a stare that I hope hides my inner turmoil. "Goodnight," I say, then I spin on my heel and head for the living room, gently closing the double doors behind me.

I look around the room with its expensive chandeliers and imported art. The only appealing thing about this room is the large bookcases adorning one wall. And we never come in here. We're always out for dinner, and when we are here at the manor, we're in the dungeon or the bedroom.

I sigh out loud. Dmitry's cameras will have picked me up. He's probably watching me right now, and he should know I'm equally as pissed at him.

I snatch a blanket from the back of the unused couch and wrap it around myself. I sit for a few moments, wondering if he'll come in and demand I strip naked and get my backside into the dungeon. When he doesn't, I lie down on the couch and allow my eyes to drift closed.

I stir, noting the ache in my back as my eyes flicker open. I wince at the sunlight now beaming through the windows. Another thing about this house—there are no blinds or curtains. Dmitry is a big fan of light while I, on the other hand, hate it.

I groan out loud and push to sit up, realising I'm still in the living room on the uncomfortable couch. He didn't come to get me . I stand, dropping the blanket and staring down at my now crinkled dress. It cost over two thousand and I'd slept in it. I laugh to myself as I head for the kitchen, hoping someone has at least grabbed breakfast.

My step falters when I see Dmitry sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at his open laptop. He's usually not around for breakfast. Once he's worshipped my body, which is like part of his routine, he goes off to work.

I contemplate backing out of the room unnoticed, knowing I must look a sight in my creased dress and last night's makeup. I slowly raise my hand to check my hair, running my fingers through the crushed curls. I'm not sure when I became so worried about my appearance.

I eye the tray of fresh pastries that one of the men must have grabbed first thing, and my stomach grumbles with hunger.

I take a deep breath. Dmitry must know I'm here, but he hasn't acknowledged me, so I step into the room and take a pastry. "Good morning," I say brightly. He glances up, arching a brow before looking back to the laptop screen. I fidget uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. "I'm mad too," I point out.

He scoffs, slamming the laptop closed and rising to his feet. "Dmitry," I mutter as he heads for the door.

He stops, and his shoulders hunch slightly before he turns to face me. "The fact you don't even know how badly last could have ended speaks volumes, Victoria."

"You didn't even ask why I flipped," I say, dropping the pastry back on the plate.

"Do you need a reason?" he snaps. "It's not the first mess you've created with your temper."

I can't help but feel it's a dig at Marcus. "Wow," I murmur, folding my arms over my chest.

"You can't lose your head with my father, of all people," he yells, causing me to jump at his harsh tone. "You've not only put yourself on his radar in the worst possible way, but you've made my life a lot harder."

"And we wouldn't want that," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

He closes the gap between us in two steps, grabbing my chin in his fingers and pulling my face up to look at him. "No, Victoria, you're right, we wouldn't want that, because if I unravel, it all turns to shit. Right now, I am the only person standing between you and death. That's how serious this is. You pull a stunt like that again and I will not be responsible for my actions. Are we clear?"

I turn my head out of his grasp. "Crystal," I spit, keeping my eyes to the ground. Prick.

"Go and shower. Marshall will be around if you need anything today."

Disappointment creeps in. "Great, another day staring at the wall."

Nik appears in the doorway. "You ready, Boss?"

I head out and go for that much needed shower, noting how he doesn't grab me for the kiss he always demands before he leaves me.

When I get back downstairs, Marshall is in the kitchen. "Good morning," I say warily. He doesn't look as pleased to see me. "Sorry, okay," I offer. "I was pissed off."

"You have got to stop acting on impulse," he hisses, keeping his voice low so no one can hear. "Last night was a complete shitshow. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking how I'm tired of men bossing me around," I tell him. "You didn't even hear what that dickhead said to me."

"And I don't care," he snaps. "My job is to keep you safe, but what the hell do I do if the Pakhan decides to put a bullet in your head? I can't take him out, Tori. He's bigger than us all."

I roll my eyes. "You're so dramatic, Marshall. He basically said I wasn't good enough for his son."

He laughs, but it's cold and empty. "Well, you sure showed him," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't see Vivian behaving like a deranged psychopath."

I narrow my eyes. "I resent that. And she's too stiff to smile let alone throw a shitfit. You all know what I'm like. Maybe you should've tried harder to keep the big bad boss away from me. I want to go and see Phoebe today."

"Why?"

"Because she's my friend, and quite frankly, I'm sick of this testosterone-filled house."

Marshall takes me to Phoebe's flat, telling me to call when I'm done and he'll collect me. I called thinking she'd be at work so we could meet for lunch, but it turns out she's sick, which is unusual. She's never sick.

She opens the door, and I frown at the sight of her. She's in her pyjamas with her hair tied in a messy bun that looks at least a week old. "You okay?" I ask.

She opens wider for me to go inside. "Did you speak with the police?"

"No. Jesus, Phoebs, you're not in this state over Marcus, are you?"

"Why hasn't he been in contact? Did you speak to your parents?"

I nod. "They said he's fine," I lie. I never thought beyond our last meeting, and I never asked Dmitry if he'd discovered anything about the note. I inwardly scold myself for being too wrapped up in him to remember my possible prison sentence.

"Oh my god, they've seen him?" she asks, looking suddenly hopeful.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Erm, maybe. Or they could've just had a call with him," I say, shrugging.

"Didn't you ask?"

I slip out of my jacket. "Why would I?" I snap. "I told you, he's dumped you, Phoebe. Don't make it weird by doing this whole break-up bullshit." She looks hurt, and I wince. "Sorry, I just mean he's not worth it."

"But the note?—"

"Is a pile of crap. Look, I haven't come to talk about my shithead of a brother. Have you been in this flat all week?" I push open a window to let some fresh air inside. "Did you go to work at all?"

She shakes her head. "I've been too worried."

"Shower," I order, shoving her in the direction of the bathroom. Phoebe's spent years looking after me, now it's my turn.

Dmitry

Nik lingers over at the bar, but his occasional glance in my direction gives me the impression he's working up the courage to tell me something. I slam my laptop closed and check my watch. It's six p.m. and the staff will be arriving soon to open the club.

"Spit it out," I tell Nik, and he jumps at the sound of my voice. "You've been deliberating over there for the last hour, and you're annoying me."

He comes closer. "You're not going to like it."

"If it's anything to do with my father, forget it. I can't deal with him right now."

He shakes his head and pulls out his mobile phone. "This is the CCTV from the Range Rover last night," he begins, handing me the phone.

I stare at the image of my krasota . She really did look perfect in that dress. I watch the way her lip curls in the same way it does when she's up to no good. My eyes narrow as she shimmies her dress up to her waist and slips out of her underwear. My body stiffens. "Who has seen this?" I ask, gripping the phone until my fingers turn white.

"Just me . . . and Marshall, of course."

Blood pumps loudly in my ears, and I go to the office with Nik hot on my heels. I turn the audio up, listening as my krasota teases Marshall. "Are you hard, Marshall?"

"Call him. Tell him to meet us back at the manor now."

My anger rises with each passing minute, and by the time we pull to a stop outside the house, I'm ready for murder. I rush up the steps, taking Marshall by surprise when I storm through the doors. "Office," I bark, heading that way.

Once inside, Nik closes the door and I round my desk, keeping my murderous expression fixed on Marshall. "You didn't think you should call me, no?" I demand.

Marshall fidgets uncomfortably. "Boss, I'm so sor?—"

"But you decided to stay in the car and watch my nevesta fuck herself. Did you get hard, Marshall? Did my soon-to-be wife make you hard?"

He keeps his eyes trained on the ground. "No, Boss."

"Is she not beautiful?"

"Dmitry," mutters Nik, giving me a look that tells me he thinks I'm being too hard.

"He saw her fucking cunt," I yell, slamming my hands down on the desk. "And then he showed you."

"He panicked," Nik argues. "We know what you're like over her." My eyes widen in surprise, and I see the instant regret in his expression. "Apologies, Boss. I'm out of line."

"Take Marshall out to the barn," I order. "Start without me."

Nik looks torn, but Marshall gives him a reassuring smile and follows him from the office without a fuss. He knows there are consequences for his lack of respect towards me.

I find Victoria in the living room reading a book. She looks up with uncertainty in her eyes as I enter. "Is there anything you need to tell me, my krasota ?" I ask, trailing my fingers over the back of the couch, pausing when I'm behind her.

"Now you want to talk?" she asks, arching a brow.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" I lean down until my mouth is brushing the skin on her neck. She automatically tilts her head to give me access, but I don't take it any further. "Did you think my men wouldn't tell me?"

"That depends on what you're talking about."

I give a little laugh. "Are you hard, Marshall?" I repeat her words from the Range Rover, and she stiffens slightly before uncurling her legs from under her and twisting in her seat so she's facing me.

She smirks, arching a brow. "Oh, that. No, Dmitry, it wasn't supposed to be a secret. I was counting on you finding out."

I should have expected her answer. Of course, she did it to piss me off. It's how she works. But after everything she did, it's the final straw. "That's a shame, my krasota ." I stand and stride towards the door. "I really liked Marshall."

Victoria scrambles to her feet and races after me, catching my arm as I descend the steps outside. "What are you talking about?"

My lips curl into what I hope is a cruel smile. "I cannot beat you, Victoria, and trust me, I am itching to teach you a lesson. So, Marshall will pay the price for your childish games."

"No," she cries, grabbing at my arm again. My strides are no match for her, and she struggles to keep up as I make my way around the back of the house towards the barn. I ignore the way she occasionally lets out a string of curse words, noting she's got nothing on her feet as she runs across the stones.

Marshall is already on his knees, his face bloody. Nik steps back, out of breath and sweating as he grabs a cloth to wipe his knuckles. Victoria finally catches up, running into the barn and stopping dead in her tracks. "No," she whispers before closing the distance between them and dropping to her knees. I watch as she cups his face. "I'm so sorry," she cries. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Marshall doesn't respond. He wouldn't dare. I give a nod to Nik, who grabs Victoria a little too roughly and pulls her away from Marshall. She kicks and screams, trying her best to escape him. I shrug from my jacket and place it neatly over the gate, then I unfasten the gold cufflinks that Victoria bought me last week and tuck them safely in my pocket before rolling up my sleeves.

"Dmitry," she cries, "please don't do this."

"I didn't do this, Victoria," I snap. "You did." I punch Marshall in the face, and he falls back, landing in a heap.

"You're a fucking coward," she screams as I lay into Marshall. Her words fade out as I focus on the task at hand. Each punch releases a little more of the anger that's been building inside me since last night.

When he's lying still on the ground, his face unrecognisable, I step back and wipe my hands down my suit trousers. I'm short of breath, and it reminds me I need to push harder in the gym. "Get the doctor to look him over," I mutter, grabbing my jacket.

Victoria's words suddenly come back into focus, and I realise she's still yelling. I give Nik another nod, and he releases her. She's about to go to Marshall, which only pisses me off more, so I grab her wrist and haul her against me. "You're lucky he didn't witness your orgasm because he would be dead. You show your cunt to anyone other than me, I'll cut their fucking eyes out. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," she spits, pulling free.

Her anger instantly ignites something inside me. It's been over forty-eight hours since I was inside her, and I'm done being mad. "Dungeon."

"No," she growls. "No fucking way."

I grab a handful of her hair and pull her to me. "Marshall understands," I tell her. "It had to be done."

"You knew what I was like the minute we met. I'm not going to change to fit into your idea of perfection. If I upset you, come to me. Punish me."

I sneer, nipping along her jaw. "Oh, my sweet krasota , that's exactly what I'm about to do."