And corruption has never tasted sweeter.
She wants me to translate, but she will never ask. She is far too proud. A purebred mafia daughter. So, let’s see her play the game her way.
She slants her eyes at me and when she speaks, her voice is hoarse but steady. “I’d rather starve.”
I shove my plate away from me. The cutlery crashes across the table, and the coffee cup topples, spilling brown liquid across the pristine white cloth. Tamara jumps to her feet and mops up the spillage. Ivana doesn’t even flinch.
I cover the distance between me and Gianna in a fraction of a second and turn her chair around to face me. I grip her chin in my fist, tilting her face towards me. “That can be arranged.”
She winces as if in pain, but her eyes hold mine. There’s a steely glint in the turquoise now, splashes of silver in the ocean, like the calm before the storm. Gianna tries to wrest her chin from my grip, and that’s when I notice the mottled purple bruising crawling across her jawline and up into her face.
“Who did this?”
“I fell.”
She’s lying, daring me a second time to call her out on it. She’s got spirit, I’ll give her that.
“One more chance, Gianna.” I could slice the atmosphere in the room with a knife, but at this moment, only the two of us exist. “Who did this?”
A glimmer of amusement reaches her eyes, lighting them up momentarily. “I told you; I fell.”
Something snaps inside me, something dark, twisted, and familiar. I admire her balls, but no one plays Leonid Ivanov at his own game and gets away with it.
I grab her fork, sweep the lid off the tureen closest to me, and scoop up a bunch of scrambled eggs. “If you won’t eat willingly, I will feed you myself.”
Her eyes flash. Is she goading me? The woman is playing with fire, and people who play with fire always get burned.
I raise the loaded fork to her mouth, spilling eggs onto the dress she is wearing, as she clamps her lips shut. I grip her chin more tightly and push the fork between her lips, spattering more egg down her chin and onto her lap.
She holds my gaze, faint lines fanning from the corners of her eyes as her mouth stretches into a smile. She’s fucking laughing at me.
Then, without warning, her lips part and she wraps them around the fork. Only, she doesn’t just take the food, she drags it off the fork slowly, deliberately, her tongue licking the underside of the utensil in a way that’s more unsettling than it should be. Her eyes stay locked on mine.
“Well, what do you know?” Her voice is husky. Seductive. “Turns out I can be obedient after all.” She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue.
My grip on the fork tightens. What the hell is she doing?
“I want more, Leonid,” she breathes. “Please.”
She doesn’t blink, and I’m mesmerized by the tiny slivers of silver and green in her eyes, my stomach lurching at the sound of my name on her tongue. Time stands still.
Then Ivana leaps from her seat, yanks the fork out of my hand, and spears more eggs. Before she can force it between Gianna’s lips, I grip her wrist causing her to drop it onto the table with a clatter. I don’t speak. I don’t need to. Ivana backs off, hands raised in surrender.
This is my game. I’m the master, and the sooner Gianna learns that I’m not messing around, the better.
This time, I grab a handful of scrambled eggs with my free hand and shove my fingers into Gianna’s mouth. Shock widens her eyes. Her shoulders tense up. Then she swallows and caresses my fingers with her tongue until it is all I can feel. Warm and moist and… My fucking cock twitches involuntarily inside my pants.
Before I can slide my fingers out of her mouth, her hand covers mine. “Are you enjoying this, Leonid?” She pronounces it Lee-oh-nid, dragging out the syllables. “How about we ditch the audience and go somewhere quiet, huh? Just the two of us?”
I am a man who is accustomed to always being in control. I know my limits. I can drink a bottle of vodka, no sweat, and if one more shot is going to tip me over the edge, I stop. But for the first time in my life, for one fleeting moment, self-control is the last thing on my mind.
Then, with a burst of anger, I remember who I am. And who she is.
I lean closer, so close our breaths mingle. “Don’t push me, Gianna.”
“Oh.” Her bottom lip rolls out, and the tip of her tongue reappears, flicking between her lips and leaving them slick. “I was only playing the game. Perhaps you’d care to explain the rules again.”
“Mygame.Myfucking rules. Follow them or you will find out what happens to those who don’t learn quickly enough.” The cold metal in my voice isn’t enough to tame the growing erection in my pants.