Page 20 of Sinful Union

I feel Pavel stiffen, his grip on me tightening as he slowly turns toward the man.

Oh, no.

“Walk away,” I whisper, pressing a hand against his chest. “He’s not worth it.”

His jaw works back and forth, his eyes fixed on all three men. I have no doubt that he’s fantasizing about taking them apart with his bare hands.

“Pavel. Please. Let it go.”

He nods once, takes my hand, and begins to lead me away.

The guy laughs louder before yelling out, “Where you goin’, chubby chaser?”

Pavel turns around, slow and controlled, then tilts his head. His fingers flex at his sides as he steps into the guy’s space, forcing him to take a step back. “You think that was funny?” Pavel asks in a low yet lethal tone.

The guy scoffs, but his bravado is cracking under the weight of Pavel’s stare. “What? I can’t compliment your taste? Some of us like our women a little—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish, as Pavel’s fist connects with his jaw so hard, so fast, I can hear the impact over the music from the club. The guy’s head snaps back, his body landing in the sand with a heavy thud. He groans, blood dripping from his nose. One of his friends takes a step forward, fists clenched.

“You want to join him?” Pavel asks.

The man hesitates before glancing down at his friend, still lying in the sand clutching his nose, choking on his own blood. He looks back at Pavel and backs down, muttering something under his breath as he grabs his groaning friend, hauling him up. The third guy remains silent as he takes one last look at Pavel. Noting the raw violence simmering just beneath the surface, he makes a smart decision: He turns and bolts.

Pavel’s hand finds mine again, his grip firm as his thumb brushes over my skin, making me feel safe and protected. His voice is calm and unbothered as he says, “Let’s go.”

We walk away in silence, my heart pounding, not because I’m scared, but because I’ve never felt more wanted and cherished in my life.

Chapter 10

Kat

One hand is laced with mine, the other skimming the curve of my waist as we walk. Every few steps, his fingers trail lower, brushing over my hips, squeezing my ass like he’s claiming me.

“I happen to love your body. Every inch of it.”

A shiver races down my spine. I should be used to this by now—the way he strips me bare just with his voice, the way he worships me without hesitation, never apologizing for wanting me. He’s still a killer. Still thepakhanof one of the most powerful Bratvas. Still a man capable of terrible, brutal things. But did he truly murder my parents? Could the man who just defended my honor so effortlessly have taken everything from me?

Doubt creeps in, a whisper I can’t ignore. It’s unshakable. I never was a hundred percent certain about Pavel’s guilt. I’d let Piotr’s conviction become my own, even though Piotr never produced any actual proof. What if he’s wrong? What if I’m about to destroy a man who isn’t my enemy after all?

I need to know the truth.

The vial in my makeup case will stay put for now.

* * *

The moment we step onto the terrace of our suite, I know I’m in trouble. Pavel’s grip tightens around my hand. He hasn’t let go of me since we left the club, and the air feels charged with the adrenaline from the earlier confrontation.

I barely have time to react before he spins me and presses me against the railing, his body caging me in. I pull in a sharp breath, my pulse pounding.

“Pavel—” His lips are on mine before I can continue.

The kiss is raw and punishing, heated and demanding, rough and possessive. I don’t fight it. I don’t push him away. I kiss him back with equal fervor. His hands are everywhere before reaching up into my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me even more deeply. “I’ve wanted to rip this damn dress off of you all night.”

His words make my knees go weak before I feel my dress being lifted up my thighs, baring my skin to the night air. I shiver, but not from the cold. His fingers run over my body, rough and deliberate. I inhale deeply, then let it out slowly, my head falling back against the railing, my fingers gripping his shirt.

“Fuck, Kat,” he says, his breath hot against my lips. “You’re already soaked.”

I moan, rolling my hips into his touch. Pavel strokes me, teasing me, pushing me closer to the edge with every slow, deliberate movement.

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