Page 19 of Hers to Command

My hand reaches out, looking for Riccardo’s warm body next to mine. But there is only soft fabric. Cool to the touch. But it’s definitely not the cold street where I was taken.

Everything rushes back, and I suck in a breath.

I shift slightly, realizing I am lying in a bed, silk sheets beneath my fingertips, only it’s not Riccardo’s home. It’s not morning. I open my eyes a little. The room is upscale and tasteful. Dim lighting casts soft shadows on the beige walls, and the scent ofsomething expensive lingers in the air. This isn’t a warehouse or some dirty basement. It’s a hotel, and an expensive one, judging by the décor and the view of the Toronto skyline through the windows.

I hear a movement and the faint clink of ice in a glass.

Every muscle in me wants to run when I see where the noise is coming from. Or rather, who it’s coming from.

Dmitri.

He stands near the window, drink in hand, watching the city as if he has nothing better to do than just waste his life staring at a shit-load of cars fucking up the atmosphere.

Besides his pig eyes, his features are bland, forgettable, but there’s something about his fading hairline and the way his suit fits just a little too tightly that highlights how much he’s trying to appear important, even though it’s clear he’s anything but. Just seeing him makes my stomach churn.

“Anya,” he says without turning, his voice calm, “it’s good to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” I snap, forcing myself to sit up despite the grogginess still clinging to me. “But then I was drugged and dragged here, so I’m not feeling particularly excited.”

He finally turns, and his eyes land on me with that same cold, greedy look he gave me when we first met. If you can call what happened a meeting. Then Dmitri smirks, setting his glass down on the little side table next to the window. “I don’t have the luxury of time anymore, Anya. Your father is dead, and your father’s little organization is leaderless, thanks to the disloyalty of your brother.” The words should piss me off, either because he’s insulting my brother or because he’s reminding me of exactly why I am pissed at Mikhail myself, but the way Dmitri says them makes it clear he’s confused by my brother’s actions.That he could abandon his family and the promise of power and territory... For what? Love?

It’s the first time I wonder if, perhaps, my brother actually managed to fall in love with someone. If this is more than Gianna turning his head and something that truly brings him happiness.

Of course, I’m not exactly in a position to ponder how that makes me feel right now. Especially since Dmitri is advancing on the bed.

“It’s time we follow through with the plans your father had for us, but when I contacted Sergei about it, he suggested that we delay any plans, at least until after an appropriate grieving time, which is simply unacceptable. And since he was being infuriatingly unhelpful, I decided to bring you here myself so we can close on that deal I made with your father, so to speak.”

I grit my teeth, my hands balling into fists beneath the sheets. “That’s not happening.”

He takes another slow step toward me, eyes gleaming, as if he’s sure he has me cornered. Vulnerable. “Oh, but it is. You and I both know that a marriage between us will solidify my position in Toronto. The Bratva will respect me, and in turn, so will my family back in Moscow.”

I scoot over to the other side of the bed and stand, refusing to be trapped in the bed like some helpless girl. Like some drugged-up girl he paid to do whatever he wants with. “Respect? For taking over something another man has spent his life building? You don’t even want to fight for it. You want to get it the easy way. Have everyone respect you just because of the woman hanging off your arm. I’d say you wouldn’t be the one that’s due some respect, if I am the one who gets it for you.”

Dmitri’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a sharpness to it now. “I want what’s owed to me. And marrying you will ensure that.”

I shake my head, stepping away from him. “No. I wasn’t going to marry you when my father was alive and I sure as fuck won’t now.”

He sighs, as if he’s disappointed in a stubborn child. “Your father thought otherwise. Don’t you want to honor his wishes?”

“My father’s dead,” I snap. “What he doesn’t know can hardly kill him now, can it?” The burning behind my eyelids is almost enough to have me clench my eyes shut, but then I wouldn’t be able to watch Dmitri, and I’ve been around enough dangerous men to know that would be a stupid mistake.

“His wishes still matter, especially since his men know about them.” The disgusting smirk is back and nausea roils in my stomach.

“I don’t care what my father wanted,” I say, keeping my voice low, forcing myself not to lose it. “I make my own choices now. And I’m telling you, this will never happen.”

His smile fades entirely, and for the first time, his mask slips. His eyes harden, a flash of anger crossing his face. “You don’t have a choice, Anya. I’m offering you security. Don’t you get that? I can make this city mine, and you get to be a part of it.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’d rather burn it all down than marry you.”

Silence stretches between us. Dmitri’s jaw tightens, and I can see the calculation behind his eyes as he tries to decide whether to press me harder or change tactics.

“It’ll happen anyway,” he says finally, his voice cold, “whether you like it or not.”

I meet his gaze head-on, my heart pounding in my chest, but I don’t flinch. “We’ll see about that.”

Dmitri’s gaze doesn’t waver from mine, but then he side-steps the corner of the bed and advances on me. He closes the distance between us, his gaze hardening, daring me to try to run.

I stay in place, staring him down. There is no way I would get far. He’s bound to have men nearby, ready to stop me fromleaving, and something tells me he would get off on chasing me. Catching me.

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