Page 17 of Tangled Souls

Adam blinks once and then his eyebrows pull together in a fake as fuck look of concern. “Of course that is the goal. Everyone should have a roof over their head.”

The man has the opportunity to end it right there, but why would he? He thinks he has one of those panty dropping smiles which gets him whatever woman he wants. The poor, delusional idiot.

“But that’s not the opportunity I was talking about,” he winks. “I was talking about making the acquaintance of a beautiful woman. I’m going to take you to get a drink.”

My eyebrow shoots up and I grin from ear to ear. I can’t help it. Sometimes men are too easy.

“I’m sorry, I believe you’re working under an incorrect assumption. Or maybe you’re being willfully obtuse.” I narrow my eyes as if I’m studying the specimen in front of me with real interest. I hold my hand up and wiggle my ring finger. “I’m very happily married.”

“Even happily married women need to grab a drink,” his words practically ooze out of his mouth.

I scrunch my nose up. “I didn’t use my full name earlier because it wasn’t necessary and you were being so rude to try and hold this little tête-à-tête. I’m Oaklynn Volkov.”

Not one single emotion flickers across his face. It sets me instantly on edge. If Adam belongs in this kind of meeting, one which relies on people who know people who will donate and attend to make this gala worth the time for the charity, then he would recognize my last name.

It might be a new development, but I’m still a Volkov.

I was long before we got married. I became a Volkov the moment my men saw me even though I didn’t know it at the time. My men knew it. Then I walked myself right into Kirill’s office and ensured it became my reality.

“Honey,” Adam leans into me, “it doesn’t matter what your last name is. Not to me.”

Before Adam knows what is happening, I’ve slipped a knife from my purse and have the tip touching his balls. The entire time I have a huge smile on my face, one that he’s starting to see isn’t as sweet as he was hoping it would be.

“I don’t know what your game is, Adam,” I spit is name like it’s disgusting, “but I don’t really care.”

“Maybe you should care,” his voice is a rasp, his words complete bluster. “You’re the one who has no idea the danger you’re in.” He scoffs, “You’re the one with the target on your back. I’m not.”

“Because you think you have some big bad man protecting you?” My question is a taunt; one I know he can feel to his bones with the way his eyes widen just enough. “I don’t care who you think you have at your back. I know who is at mine, but thedifference between you and I is that I don’t need someone bigger to support me. I’m dangerous, all,” I increase the pressure of the tip of my knife and his eyes dart down, “on my own.”

The attitude is gone, and I can practically smell the fear coming from him now. I fucking love it.

I turn the knife slightly and pat his crotch with the flat side of it. Seeing the beads of sweat form on his brow has me feeling bubbly.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, Adam Peterson.”

Before he gets the chance to say anything, I remove the knife, stand up, and step away from the table in one fluid movement. He sits there, stunned.

When I look at the man who was stationed against the wall behind me, I give a nod and head tilt toward the man. I don’t need to call Kirill to know he’s going to want to talk to this guy.

Not only was there something off about him, but he clearly knew who I was and still tried to chat me up. There’s no way he has enough power to not care about the Volkov name. I want to find out why that is, and so will our men.

As I stride out of the room, my back straight and my chin held high, I don’t need to look back. I know my bodyguard has fallen into step behind me. When I slide into the back seat of the car, my bodyguard hops in behind the wheel.

Kirill answers on the first ring, “Is there something wrong,Solnishko?”

The worry in his voice makes me wish I could tell him everything is fine. But I’m not going to lie to him.

“A guy sat next to me at the meeting. He tried to chat me up,” I inform him.

Kirill growls, “He was hitting on you?”

I roll my eyes and try not to be annoyed. “He wasn’t really interested.” He scoffs like my words are ridiculous, but I ignore it. “I think he got close to me on purpose. I didn’t use my last name when I first told him my name, but when I did, to try and back him off, he wasn’t surprised at all. There was just something about the interaction. My instincts were screaming at me.”

“What’s this fuckers name?”

I giggle, the possessiveness in Kirill’s question making a shiver roll down my spine. I need to get home. Sooner rather than later.

“I signaled for him to be picked up,” I assure Kirill. “I’ll be home soon. I just didn’t want you to hear about our new guest before I had a chance to say something.”

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