Page 45 of Beautifully Deranged

He wipes himself off.“You think this is over? I will never stop. I will ruin myself over and over again, until the only thing left of me is the man you deserve.”

?Chapter twenty one?

Mikhail

The dress? It’s perfect. I knew it the second I bought it for her. Black satin, thigh-high slit, thin little straps barely clinging to anything. It's elegant but lethal. Her in a nutshell. I left it on her bed this morning, no note. A silent dare. If she doesn’t wear it, I’ll show up anyway. I’ll drag her out myself, kicking and screaming if I have to.

I’m rolling my cuffs up now, glaring at my own reflection. My suit’s dark, crisp, same color as the ink that’s crawled halfway up my arm. I look...fine. Put together. But the knot in my gut says otherwise.

One knock.

The door creaks open.

And there she is.

Jesus Christ.

That fucking dress on her, it’s not fair. It hugs every inch like it was custom-made for her body alone. Her chin’s up too, daring me to react, daring me to fall apart.

“Don’t get too excited,” she says, deadpan. “I’m only coming because I was bored.”

Right. Bored. I take a breath. Keep the volcano in check. Meanwhile, she’s bored, and I’m five seconds away from kissing her feet. “Lie all you want,” I murmur, “but you’re still wearing my dress.”

Her lips twitch with something close to fury. Or restraint. Could be either. She snatches her purse and slams the door behind her. “Are we going,” she mutters, brushing past me, “or are you just gonna keep standing there like some obsessed freak?”

I let out a laugh, hand sliding to the small of her back. She doesn’t shove me off. Small win.

***

I guide her through the restaurant's entrance, my hand staying firm on her waist so that every motherfucker in this room knows that she’s mine. She stiffens when she spots Roman standing at the head of a private table in the back, nursing a glass of whiskey, his jacket draped over the back of his chair.

“Relax, sweetheart,” I murmur. “He’s already tried to recruit you once. This is... a better setting.”

She lets out the softest huff.

I pull out her chair, and to my absolute fucking delight, she gives me a glare that could kill before sitting down. All it does is make my cock twitch. Unhinged Lola is my favorite version of Lola.

“You’re braver than I thought,” Roman tells her, setting his drink down.

Lola quirks a brow. “For what?”

“Walking into a room full of men like us and acting like you belong.”

She shrugs. “Maybe I do.”

Roman studies her like a puzzle he hasn’t yet figured out. “We'll see.”

She’s nonchalant, uncaring whether he thinks she belongs or not. I can tell Roman likes that.

He smirks. “You’d do well in the family.”

“I think I’d rather chew glass.”

He chuckles. “Smart girl.”

Lola rolls her eyes, and I swear to God, I could fucking devour her right here.

“She’s going to break you.” Roman tells me.

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