Page 132 of Vendetta Vows

"I'm observant." Her eyes flicker briefly to where Alexei is watching us, his hand still gripping the back of Eleonora's neck. "I see how these men look at their wives. Like possessions."

"And how do I look at you?"

Aurora tilts her head, studying my face with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. "Like you want to devour me."

"That's because I do." I lower my voice so only she can hear. "The second we're alone, I plan to peel that dress off you with my teeth."

She stumbles slightly in our dance, and I catch her smoothly, using the opportunity to press my hand more firmly against the small of her back.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispers, her voice catching.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No." Her eyes soften. "That's the terrifying part."

"Are you terrified of me, Aurora?"

"No." She shakes her head, her golden hair catching the light. "I'm terrified of how you make me feel. Like I'm not running anymore. Like I could..."

She trails off. Her lips part slightly as she looks up at me.

"Like I could be someone real."

The music begins to fade, and I know our moment of privacy is nearly over. Other couples will join us on the dance floor soon.

"You are real, Aurora, I tell her, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "You're more real with me than anyone has ever been. Including myself."

The heat in her eyes makes me want to dismiss every guest immediately, consequences be damned.

"Do you think anyone would notice if we disappeared?" she asks, her words mirroring my thoughts.

"Everyone would notice." I draw her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. "And I don't give a fuck."

I hold Aurora close, my heart thundering against my ribs as the orchestra finishes our first dance. The melody fades, and I'm about to lead her from the floor when the double doors at the entrance crash open.

Tamara strides in, her blonde hair swept in a tight bun atop of her head and diamonds glittering at her throat. Behind her stand six men with hard faces and bulges beneath their jackets.

The music doesn't dare to resume. Conversations die. Glasses freeze halfway to lips.

I move in front of Aurora, angling my body instinctively to shield her.

"Where are my daughters, Ruslan?" Tamara's voice rings through the stunned silence. "You have no right to take them from me!"

My jaw tightens. "They're safe. That's more than I can say for anyone in your care."

Her lips twist into a cruel smile. "They're my flesh and blood. Mine to raise. Mine to protect."

"Is that what you call it? Protection?" I take a step forward, keeping Aurora behind me. "You were ready to sell them to the highest bidder!"

Tamara's face contorts with rage. "How dare you! Everything I do is for them! For their future!"

"Their future?" I laugh bitterly. "Being married off to men old enough to be their grandfathers? That's the future you want for Mikayla? For Stella? For Sofia?"

A ripple runs through the crowd. Some of the older pakhans shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Tamara steps forward, hand raised to slap me, but freezes as Gregor Belov rises from his seat.

"Enough, Tamara Denisovna." His voice is calm, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. "You dishonor yourself and your family with this display. The girls will remain with their pakhan."

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