And not just any guy’s.
Yulian’s.
Not that it matters whose dick she was riding, but the blow is harsher knowing it’s him.
The one guy I just can’t stand.
Danika doesn’t know about it, or she wouldn’t have shown up at a charity ball put on by Aunt Reina, mother to my friends Gareth and Killian. She’s also Nikolai’s maternal aunt and an ex-mafia princess, but unlike Niko’s mom, she chose to stay away from the Bratva world and only indulges in charity-related organizations.
Her sons aren’t as distant, though. Jeremy, Nikolai, and I—the future mafia heirs of the New York Bratva—are their best friends.
I don’t even need to be here, but I asked Mom if I could attend on her behalf. She’s a big champion of this charity and is friends with Aunt Reina, but I convinced her it’d be good if I were to give the check instead of her.
However, I possess no philanthropic intentions tonight. I had the guards organize a romantic dinner for my parents and made each of them believe it was the other’s idea—you know, so they don’t have a chance to bail.
They’ll eventually know it was me and I had a plan, but by that time, I’ll be done.
I don’t want them to witness my most disgraceful form.
“Hon!” Danika throws herself into my arms.
I don’t hug her, just pat her shoulder mechanically, with a complete sense of indifference.
Once upon a time, I saw her as a partner. Right now, she’s nothing.
It should be frightening that I’m able to discard her so easily. I suppose it did hurt when I watched the video of my one and only girlfriend of four years cheating on me so blatantly.
But did it hurt enough?Shouldit hurt some more?
Possibly, yes.
I think other guys would be more devastated if they were in my place.
But then again, I’ve always been a pragmatic person, and emotions have little influence on my decisions.
Danika is just a rotten limb that needs to be amputated. That’s all.
“I missed you.” She drops a kiss on my cheek, then looks around. “This place is amazing. You should’ve told me beforehand, and I would’ve worn a better dress.”
That’s usually my cue to tell her she looks gorgeous in whatever she’s wearing—tonight, it’s a red spaghetti-strap dress. The marks from her wild night are hidden by makeup, but she was sloppy with a finger mark near her nape that’s not completely concealed.
A simmering hurricane bubbles beneath the surface of my psyche, shoving itself against my harrowing emotions with inexplicable intensity.
I reach out, meaning to skim my fingers against the mark—not even sure why I want to do that—but instead, my thumb stays there, on his thumb’s mark. This is where he put his fingers when she was giving him head before he grabbed her hair, making her choke on his cock.
I’venevermade her choke on my cock, but he took the liberty to do so with what belongs tome.
So now, I press down on the faint trace of Yulian’s thumb.
This is entirely…novel. I don’t know why I want to do this or why I feel the need to dig deeper, go harder, as if it’s his thumb that I’m jamming.
“Ow!” Danika yelps and I let my hand fall as if I’ve been possessed.
When I don’t apologize and just keep staring, Danika’s mouth pulls in a downturned pout.
“Is everything okay, Vaughn?”
“Not really, no.”
