But what the hell.
“Okay, fine,” I gave in, because who wouldn’t?
“Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at seven.” Placing one hand on my hip, as the other one was still occupied with gift I had yet to unwrap, I said, “What if I have classes?”
“You don’t.”
I didn’t, but how did he know? “And you are so sure, because…?”
“I checked your schedule online.”
“You did what?” I shouted, but he just shrugged.
“Seemed easier, the date required planning.” Then unexpectedly, he caressed my cheek with his bruised knuckles, and murmured, “Until then,krasavica.” With that, he gave a chin lift to Lorenzo, put the bag inside my car, and left me standing there like a freaking idiot.
What the hell was going on here? This guy barely reminded me of the possessive beast from our every other encounter.
“Just what is your game, Dominic?” I whispered, but even with my doubts, I couldn't deny the happiness blossoming inside me from the fact he hadn't given up.
Once he was out of view, I tore the ribbon away, opened the lid of the box, and my eyes widened at the beautiful emerald earrings reminding me of teardrops. Similar to the ones Angelina Jolie wore for the Oscar ceremony in 2009.
Dominic Konstantinov sure knew how to give one hell of a gift.
Dominic
As the car slowly drove in the New York traffic, I had time to admire the city’s beauty. Tall buildings, constantly busy streets, people wearing all kinds of clothes, and in all this, accepting whatever the fuck they wanted. Strangely enough, New York represented freedom and energy, making you always move forward, and it could swallow you whole if you didn't get with the program.
“Amazing. She’ll love the present.” Michael assured me from the front seat, while Vitya drove the vehicle. He turned to me, steaming coffee in his right hand as his left held tight to his man. “See? You can act like a normal man around her.” Vitya chuckled.
Michael frowned and raised his eyes to me. “What’s so funny about it?”
Ignoring the question, I closed my eyes and rested the side of my head on the window as lights flickered on the streets.
Dating Rosa was for her.
However, the minute dating wouldn't be sufficient, or she decided to end it? She’d be fucking kidnapped to Russia and married to me.
Brutal? Yes.
But she was mine.
Mine and nobody else’s.
Man with the dragon tattoo
Smashing the bottle of whiskey against the wall, I breathed heavily, my eyes searching for other things to destroy. With a shout of displeasure, I threw all the toiletries on the nightstand on the floor. A female cry penetrated the haze of anger surrounding me.
Bianca, beaten up and bruised, tried to become invisible in the darkest corner of the room. Her blonde hair was sticky from the blood pouring from her wound, which she got from me slamming my belt buckle against her head. She trembled, because the air conditioner was running on high.
Hot. I always felt fucking hot, to the point of my clothes sticking to my sweaty skin even in winter. “Shut up!”
She jumped, pressing her fist over her mouth like it fucking helped with the sounds. “Please,” she begged, as she shook with sobs. “Stop hurting me.” Reaching her side in a few short steps, I grabbed her hair painfully. One more groan of pain erupted from her.
“Next time, you think before instructing me on how to behave.” Slapping her cheek hard, I added, “I saw how you looked at him.”
She wrapped her hands around her knees. “No, I didn’t. Please don’t hurt him.”
Tilting my head back, I laughed bitterly. “Why? You wish to fuck him?” Her neck probably burned from the leather of the belt as I squeezed her, almost choking her on her own saliva. Her wrists and ankles were bloody from the cuts, and finally, my favorite, knife wounds all over her legs, stomach, and back.
