And then I heard raised voices as soon as I opened the shower door.
Hers and Artem’s.
I rub the back of my neck, and steam billows behind me as I head down the hallway of the penthouse I rent when I’m on this side of the country.
The place is all glass and clean lines, modern, cold, and expensive as hell. I’ve barely taken five steps before I hear raised voices again.
“Sienna put on the damn dress.”
“No. I’m not playing house, and I’m not going to your disgusting mob dinner.”
Fuck me.
Now that she’s had a break, she’s ready for round two.
I turn the corner, and there they are. Artem, stiff and red in the face, is holding up a sleek black dress. His wide shoulders are so tight that it looks like his T-shirt is about to come apart at the seams.
Sienna is across from him, her chin jutted out in rebellion, still wearing one of the robes the staff laid out earlier.
Still barely dressed, just like she was in her apartment.
“Everything okay in here?” I dry my hair with the towel draped over my shoulder.
Artem doesn’t even look at me. “Tell her to put the damn thing on, Volkov. I told you this was a bad idea.”
Sienna’s glare flicks to me. “Tell him I’m not his paper doll. I can dress myself. You didn’t tell me that I’d have to deal with youandyour brute.”
My gaze drops, mindlessly skimming down her frame—bare legs, bare feet, and the same stubborn look she’s worn since we touched down in L.A.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a woman this close to my world. Now that she’s here, she’s already fucking up the vibe. Artem and I have a rhythm. We don’t talk much; we get shit done.
“Put the dress on, Sienna,” I say, voice low, controlled. “I don’t want to be late.”
She crosses her arms. “No.”
That’s it.
Just no.
End of conversation.
Artem is through with her defiance. “We’ll have the men watch her. She’ll be more of a hassle than anything. Let the brat stay here.”
He doesn’t make the rules; I do.
But he’s not wrong. I should’ve waited until we got back from L.A. to sort everything out with her, but Detective Campbell complicated matters. The last thing I need is him sniffing around Sienna and giving him a personal look inside the business to gather the information I want.
He doesn’t get to use her; I do.
I turn slightly without taking my eyes off her. “Why don’t you give us a minute?”
“Volkov…”
“Thank you.”
He mutters something in Russian and storms out of the penthouse, slamming the door behind him.
The second it clicks shut, I move in fast, herding her toward the wall. I give her a little shove for good measure and slam my palm against the drywall beside her head.
