"Interested?" I repeat slowly.
"Very interested." He's still smiling, enjoying this too much. "She's intelligent, beautiful, clearly well-bred. That body—Christ, that body. And the way she moved in your lap last week? I've been thinking about that for days."
I stand before I fully register the decision to move. My chair scrapes against the floor with a harsh sound that cuts through the room.
"Santino." Carlo's voice is careful, the tone he uses when he's trying to defuse a situation before it explodes. "Sit down."
"Did he just say what I think he said?" I'm looking at Alexei, but I'm asking Carlo.
"I said I'm interested in your girl," Alexei clarifies, completely unfazed by my reaction. "If you're having second thoughts about the arrangement. If you decide you don't want her after all. I'd be happy to step in and take her off your hands."
I'm across the table before I can stop myself, before rational thought can interfere with instinct. My hand is fisted in his expensive shirt, pulling him half out of his chair until his face is inches from mine.
"Say one more word about her," I tell him very quietly, very calmly, in the voice I use right before I do violence. "One more fucking word about Liana, and I'll put a bullet in your head."
The room goes completely silent, leaving just my breathing and his.
Dmitri stands slowly, his chair scraping back. "Santino. Let him go."
"Not until he apologizes." My grip on his shirt tightens.
"For what? Stating an interest in a beautiful woman?" Alexei's smile doesn't waver even now, even with my fist in his collar. "She's not your wife yet. Until that wedding happens, she's fair game."
"She's not fair game. She's mine." The possessiveness in my voice should alarm me, but it doesn't.
"Prove it," he challenges, his eyes glinting.
I pull my fist back, ready to drive it into his smug face. Carlo catches my arm before I can follow through.
"Not here," Carlo says firmly, his grip on my arm like iron. "Not now. Think about what you're doing, Santino."
I'm thinking about breaking Alexei's face. I'm thinking about making him regret every word he just said. That's what I'm thinking about.
But Carlo is right, and the rational part of my brain knows it. This is neutral territory, a business arrangement between families. I can't start a war over—
Over what, exactly? Over a woman who won't answer my calls? Who removed all traces of herself from my apartment? Who's playing games I don't understand and can't seem to win?
I release Alexei's shirt and step back, forcing my hands to unclench.
"This game is over," I announce to the room.
"Over? Again?" Dmitri raises his eyebrows in theatrical surprise. "We just started."
"I said it's over." I grab my jacket from the back of my chair. "I'll see you gentlemen another time."
"What about your girl?" Alexei calls after me as I head for the door. "If you change your mind about marrying her—"
I don't turn around. If I turn around, I will kill him, and damn the consequences.
I'm in my car before I fully calm down. The adrenaline is still coursing through my system, making my heart race and my vision sharp.
He talked about her like she was available. Like she was his to consider, his to pursue. Like she wasn't mine. The possessiveness over her is overwhelming and undeniable.
She is mine. The certainty of it resonates in my bones.
I pull out my phone and call her again, not caring that it's late, not caring that she ignored me all day. Straight to voicemail this time. She turned off her phone completely.
Me: We need to talk. Call me.
