The girls drag me onto the dance floor. The crowd pulses around us, lights bouncing off their laughter. I move with them, hips swaying, shoulders loose, arms lifted. The energy is electric. I feel the music in my bones, every beat syncing with the fire already roaring inside me.
I catch glimpses of men scattered across the room, some watching, some trying not to. I smile inwardly. Around me, the other girls are laughing and swaying to the music.
Moments later, a few men suddenly edge closer, trying to weave themselves into our circle. One of them touches Sasha’s arm. “Come on,” one says, voice slick. “Pretty ladies, we want to feel the energy—dance with you!”
Sasha shakes her head sharply. “No, thanks. We’re good on our own.”
Before anyone can argue, a wall of muscle forms around us. Heavy boots hit the floor, and Rusnak guards descend, grabbing the men with a precision that leaves no room for protest. The would-be dancers flail and shout as they’re dragged out of the bar, wide-eyed and screaming.
I blink, stunned for a second, and then more guards flood the space, sweeping the remaining patrons toward the exits. Within minutes, the bar is ours. Empty, except for the four of us, the music, and the hum of adrenaline that crackles through the room.
I barely have time to process it before the girls are surrounded by their husbands. The men look furious—tight jaws, hard eyes, the kind of rage that promises consequences.
Roman grips Elara’s waist and murmurs something low in her ear. Lev does the same with Sasha, already steering her away. Dimitri carries Vivian off bridal style. Their laughter dies quickly as they’re pulled toward the exit. No time for goodbyes.
When I turn to leave, a hand circles my throat.
Not crushing. Not gentle either. Just firm enough to remind me exactly who’s behind me.
Warm breath ghosts my ear.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“Dancing,” I say, even as my breath stutters. I hate that it does.
“For other men?” His voice drops further, dangerous. “Are you fucking serious?”
“What?” I try to twist out of his grip, but his hold tightens, fingers spreading along my jaw as he steers me forward. Heads turn. I keep my chin high.
“You’re my fucking wife. No one else gets to see you like that. You’re going to get someone killed. I promise you.”
“You’re insane.”
He drags me out of the bar and straight toward the waiting car. The night air slaps my skin, cold and sharp. He shoves the door open and all but throws me inside.
The door slams.
“Drive,” he barks at Marko.
The car lurches forward.
Chapter 15 – Sebastian
The car ride is silent, and it’s better that way, because I’m furious.
What the hell is Sienna’s problem?
Minutes ago, I was at the bar with my brothers, talking business, when Konstantin casually tipped his glass toward the dance floor. I followed his gaze, and everything inside me tightened.
Sienna.
She moved like she owned the air around her. Confident. Fluid. Untouchable. A goddess who knew exactly what she was doing to every man watching her. Heat slammed into my gut, sharp and unwelcome.
I was already angry at how boldly she was displaying herself when a group of men approached the women. One of them put his hands on Sasha.
Lev lost it.
Dimitri had to physically restrain him to keep the place from being torn apart. Guards swarmed in seconds.
