For the first time in years, my stomach isn’t feeling well.
I’m nauseated.
“Good one. I see you developed a sense of humor.” His laughter disappears. “But I mean it. It’s better if you do what I tell you while I’m asking amicably.”
“AndImean it. You’d better leave now before I have my men fill your torso with holes.”
“Do it yourself, you coward.” He grins and winks.
Why the hell is hewinking?
I open my mouth to say something, but Danika is a short distance away. Yulian notices her, too, because he stands up and starts to walk past me but then stops and places a hand on my shoulder.
His palm is big and heavy and as unsettling as his overwhelming scent. The mixture of cedar, lemon, and a hint of musk clogs my nostrils until he’s all I can breathe.
“You have until the end of the evening before I take matters into my own hands.” He leans down so his voice is closer, dropping into a husky whisper. “Remember what I said before. One way or another, Ialwaysget what I want,Mishka.”
8
YULIAN
So here’s the thing.
I truly, irrevocably, and without a shadow of a doubt always get what I want.
Always.
It doesn’t matter what the circumstances dictate, what methods I use, or how far I need to go. If I decide it’s happening, my fucked-up brain will come up with the necessary shitstorm to ensure the thing I want will take place.
You know, because I’m persistent.
And annoying.
A general eyesore, if you will.
Most importantly, I will take the blood I’m fucking owed even if it’s the last thing I do.
That’s how I find myself standing by the floor-to-ceiling window in a hotel room in downtown Manhattan, staring at the city that never sleeps.
I’ve never liked New York and it’s not due to an idiotic snobbishness about being from Chicago—though my city is superior, just saying.
It’s because the couple times I’ve been here, I ended up with a goddamn tragedy, blood on my hands, and a hole in my chest.
Literally and figuratively.
I ended up with a curse.
A weakness.
A pit in the fabric of my soul.
This time will be different.
Yes, I still returned and walked into that restaurant I had no business being in and made eye contact I shouldn’t have.
Touched.
Breathed.
