I waved to the bartender for a drink and asked for a whiskey on the rocks.
“Glad you aren’t into that fruity shit,” Aidan said, ordering the exact same drink.
Iwasinto fruity cocktails, but little did this guy know that I’d crafted my appearance to fit all his desires. Wore a black wig that made me look like his stepdaughter–nausea spiked at that thought–and a short dress that showed enough cleavage to get his attention.
From the way his khaki pants were tenting, Idefinitely had his attention.
The door to the bar swung open, and I felt the energy in the room shift. My head turned like it was following a magnet. And I wasn’t the only one.
I caught Aidan’s frown in my peripheral vision as we both stared at the newest arrival to The Parlor, the Lower East Side’s hottest new bar.
The man with cruel eyes, and an even crueler mouth.
Gun metal eyes met mine, and despite the twenty-foot distance between us a shiver ran up my back.
I steeled my expression as I glared at Dmitri Novikov. He might have a saint's name, but I was intimately aware that he was the farthest thing from it.
He’d proved that when he’d murdered my brother while I begged him not to.
After he’d killed my brother and left me to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart, I spent the next few months waiting for him to approach me. To sayanything.
It never happened.
Now, Dmitri slowly strode across the room. The previous hum of the room slowly descended into silence as if they could sense the dangerous energy radiating off him.
“Do you know him?” my mark asked while trying to puff out his chest.
“No,” I lied, wishing it was true. Wishing my brother and I had never been shoved into that room with him.
“Such a little liar, kotenok,” Dmitri’s gravelly voice echoed as he stepped beside me.
My body bristled at the nickname. I wasn’t a fuckingkitten. And it didn’t help that it was the same one he’d used on me right before he’d killed Kiril.
Dmitri leaned in closer. “I’ve felt you staring at me during the Pakhan’s meetings,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear.
A flush crawled up my neck. Anger and guilt and something else I didn’t want to admit billowed under my skin.
“Screw you,” I muttered. A small part of me wished I could swallow back the words.
I still had no idea why Dmitri had approached me after all this time, and here I was antagonizing him. Not to mention, my target was getting pissed that I was paying attention to another man.
But damn did it feel good not to cow to Dmitri like every other person in the underworld did.
“Back off,” Aidan said, tensing up his minuscule muscles as he leaned towards Dmitri. “She’s mine.”
My body hummed its denial at the words while Dmitri’s eyes gleamed darkly.
Dmitri stepped in the middle of us, and the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. Dmitri’s arms were three times the size of Adian’s, and he looked like he could strangle Aidan’s skinny neck with only one hand.
“Are you sure about that?” Dmitri said.
Aidan’s posture wilted under Dmitri’s soulless stare.
As Dmitri held Aidan’s gaze, he placed his hand on the back of my barstool. Heat flooded me the moment Dmitri’s long fingers brushed against my bare back.
Aidan glanced between us and hurriedly stood up.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he said, rushing off before I could even reply.
