Page 25 of Marked By His Touch

I’m not leaving this place, am I?

“Daisy, Daisy,” he repeats, the name lingering on his tongue. He looks me up and down, his gaze stopping on my chest. “Have a look round, see if you like, yes, doll. Every night, you make over thousand of your American dollars.”

“I need the money,” I lie, my voice is trembling.

“Good girl,” he purrs, a smile that’s more like a crack in his face than genuine warmth. He turns, but not to me. His gaze cuts across the room like a laser, sweeping over the dancers clinging to poles, the couples tangled on velvet couches, and the faces painted with lust.

Nikolai Romanov is sizing up the room like a hunter assessing its quarry. He doesn’t even blink as he moves, long strides taking him towards Cole.

My heart is a drum solo. I dive into the crowd, using the multitude of bodies as camouflage. Even as I try to disappear, I can’t take my eyes off the two men. I need to see them to understand what’s going on.

They lock eyes, a silent exchange that feels more potent than words. Nikolai points a finger, the gesture more like a flick of a whip than a simple accusation. Cole shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with amusement. It’s like watching a scene from a movie, a scene that’s more real than any I’ve ever seen.

They exchange words, but I can’t hear anything over the nightclub-like music. Then, Nikolai pivots, his face turning hard and sharp, assessing his next move. He doesn’t even look back at me. He strides past a couple tangled in a mess of limbs and lust, his gaze landing on the pair, their moans lost in the thumping music. A cold smile curls his lips.

He’s enjoying the display.

Waitresses in tight leather outfits weave through the crowd, their trays laden with drinks, a selection of—-something else. Is it white powder? I can’t quite make it out. It doesn’t look likeanyone’s paying. The guests grab what they want like this place is some sort of exclusive club with a bottomless bar and a free-for-all policy. Membership? Prepaid? Or is this some bizarre, twisted cult?

I look back to Cole, taking in his meeting with Nikolai. They know each other. And this place, this isn’t just a club, it’s a freaking lair. I’ve stumbled into a world I never knew existed, and it feels like a noose tightening around my neck.

I’m starting to realize that my biggest mistake wasn’t walking into this place. It was believing I had any control at all.

The musicin this place is a physical force, a pulsating beast that vibrates through my bones, making my skin tingle. I’m caught in the current of the crowd, jostled, pushed, my senses overwhelmed by the flashing lights, the pounding rhythm, and the cloying scent of sweat. It feels like a fever dream that makes my head spin.

I’m sweating, my clothes clinging to my skin, and the room feels like a pressure cooker, its energy suffocating.I need air.Space. A moment to breathe. But the maze of bodies and flashing lights has me disoriented.Damn it.

A sliver of light at the end of the room catches my eye—a hallway, the one I spotted earlier, a possible escape.I hope so.Somewhere along the way, someone has stripped me of my jacket. It lies forgotten on the floor like a discarded piece of my identity. My bare shoulders feel exposed, and I’m acutely aware of how little clothing I’m wearing and how exposed I am in this game.

A girl stumbles into me. Her eyes are vacant like she’s lost in a fantasy world. Her tight black leather outfit, barelycontaining her overflowing breasts, clings to her body, and she’s wearing long, sleek boots. Her makeup is impeccable despite the cluttered look in her eyes.

She grabs my chin, her fingers surprisingly strong. “Such a pretty doll,” she says, her voice is raspy, like a smoker. Then, she loses her balance, her high stiletto heels betraying her, and crashes to the floor. She tries to get up but stumbles again. A twisted laugh escapes her lips, a sound that curdles my blood like an echo of madness.

Two large men appear from nowhere, grabbing her under the arms and dragging her out of a side door. It’s not a friendly scene, and I draw back, my heart thumping in my ribcage. A few other girls give me hostile looks, their eyes flickering over me like they’re sizing me up.

I move quickly towards the hallway, seeking refuge. Two girls sit on a black leather couch. One, dressed in nothing but a G-string and a laced bra, has her legs sprawled open in a bold display of confidence. The other, in a crimson dress and matching lipstick, has her eyes locked on me and smirks.

“What do we have here?” the one in the laced bra taunts.

“A newcomer?” the other laughs, lighting a cigarette, the intricate tattoos of whips and broken hearts on her chest catching the light.

“Just looking to breathe,” I pant.

“You came to the wrong place for breathing, hun,” says the red lipstick lady, her eyes glittering with amusement.

Their accents, though faint, are unmistakable.Russians.

Suddenly, I feel a warm breath on my neck. A low voice purrs against my ear, “Hello again,Daisy.”

The way he says my name chills me to the bone.

It’s Nikolai.Our eyes lock, his gaze like a laser beam burning into me. I feel a jolt, a primal reaction to his presence. My eyes drop to his neck. His pulse beats against the serpent tattoo thatcoils down his skin. He’s all muscle, built like a freaking tank. He’s got silver rings on three fingers, each with a symbol, some strange code I can’t decipher.

“Hi,” I say, pushing my breasts forward, trying to stand my ground.Don’t be weak, Ava,I silently urge myself.

“Nadia, you should take our newfriendto the room. Can you show Daisy what we do here,da?” His voice makes my skin prickle. His hand gently pushes mine, and his touch sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body. His gaze is like a magnet, drawing me in.

And much as I long to escape, to be with Alexander, I’m mesmerized by Nikolai’s intensity, the raw power radiating from him. His hand lingers on my cheek, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. It’s a gesture that feels like a caress.

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