"I wouldn't." He doesn't even look at Elio, keeping those pale eyes fixed on me. "Miss Sartori is in perfectly good hands. Stand down."
"Like hell?—"
"Or." The stranger tilts his head. "I could inform the Sartori family that their guard left their precious sister unattended. That a man approached her without permission while he was too busy following the blonde."
Elio's face goes white.
Fuck.
Amanda looks between all of us, confusion and alarm warring on her features. "V? What's going on?"
"Nothing." I force the word out. "Just... give me a minute."
"But—"
"Amanda." I meet her eyes. "Please."
She hesitates, then nods slowly. Her gaze lingers on the stranger with something between fear and fascination before she lets Elio guide her back toward the bar.
The stranger watches them go, then turns that devastating attention back to me. "Smart friends."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who'd like to have a drink with you." He gestures toward a door I hadn't noticed before—hidden behind the VIP section, guarded by another mountain of a man. "I have a private room upstairs. Quieter."
Every survival instinct I possess screams at me to walk away. This man knows who I am. Knows my family.
Red flags. So many red flags.
But the way he's looking at me...
Heat curls low in my belly. Dangerous and delicious.
Two years,something whispers.Two years of nothing.
"One drink," I hear myself say.
His smile sharpens. Victorious. "After you."
I follow him toward the hidden door, pulse thrumming with something that feels terrifyingly like anticipation. His hand brushes the small of my back—barely a touch, but it burns through the thin fabric of my dress.
This is such a bad idea.
CHAPTER THREE
Dmitri
The champagne bottle sweats in my grip as I pour two glasses. Dom Pérignon again. Nothing but the best for the princess who walked into my kingdom without knowing she was already mine.
She stands near the tinted windows, her reflection ghosting against the Chicago skyline. I've imagined peeling her dress off her body at least a hundred times since the moment I saw her tonight.
She didn't recognize me.
The thought burns through my chest like cheap vodka. A month ago, I kissed her hand and she fled like I'd branded her. Now she's in my private room, looking at me like I'm just some stranger who might scratch an itch.
She didn't even bother to learn who owns Nexus.
I should be insulted. Instead, I'm fucking furious. Not at her ignorance, but at the realization that she came here tonight looking for exactly this. A man. Any man. If she'd gone to anyother club in Chicago, some worthless piece of shit would have his hands on her right now.
