“Boss.”
He nods back and guides me inside. The foyer is absurdly luxurious. Like no place I’ve ever been. With marble floors, a chandelier that probably costs more than my car, and a magnificent staircase.
I’m still staring when an older gentleman approaches us, carrying a leather doctor’s bag.
He inclines his head. “Mr. Maksimov. Miss.”
Maksimov. So that’s his last name…
Zak nods, then turns to me. “Come on.”
I’m still too shocked to protest when he wraps a large, warm hand around mine and pulls me along to head down a hallway into what looks like an office. All dark wood, leather chairs, and a massive desk.
The doctor sets his bag on the desk and gestures to a plush club chair. “Please.”
Zak sits and unbuttons his shirt. I stand by the door with my arms crossed, trying not to stare. He shoulders off the shirt… and… This man’s chest should be fucking illegal. He’s broad, defined, and covered in tats. His arms, his pecs… There’s a line of words inked at the top of his ribcage, making my fingers itch to trace them. But there’s also blood. So much blood.
The doctor leans in, examining Zak’s wound with sharp eyes, then nods. “In and out, no real damage. You’re lucky, Mr. Maksimov.”
The older gentleman cleans the wound, and I watch Zak’s jaw tighten, but he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even flinch. He just sits there, stone-faced. Looking hotter than anyone has the right to be…
The doc stitches him up and wraps a bandage around his torso. “Keep it clean, no strenuous activity for a few days, and you’ll be good as new.”
“Thanks.”
The older man nods, packs his bag, then turns to me, smiling. “Make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”
Then he’s gone and I’m left alone with a shirtless mobster, who just got stitched up from a freaking bullet wound, in his home office.
Zak stands slowly, reaching for his shirt.
“I should really go now,” I say. He gives me a murderous stare.Oh boy…“Look, I helped you. But I need to get back to my life. And my friend’s probably freaking out…”
“Your friend’s fine. I had my men check. Everyone left the venue safely.”
I sigh in relief. “They did?”
He nods. “Had her and her guy checked on. They’re back at the hotel, unharmed. And I’ll cover the repairs for the venue.”
Oh, wow!
“That’s… uh… thank you.” He nods, wincing slightly as he pulls his shirt on and buttons it. “So I can go now.”
Death glare. “No.”
I throw my hands up. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s not safe,” he rumbles through clenched teeth.
I take another step forward, glaring just as hard. “Then I’ll go to the police.”
His eyes go arctic cold.
Ooookay…
“No police, Nadia.”
“Well, you can’t just keep me here.” He holds my gaze, silent. “Are you serious right now?” More mute staring. “This is insane.”
