Page 36 of Tangled Souls

Oaklynn holds up her wedding and engagement rings while fluttering her fingers. The light catches the stones beautifully.

The brunette glances at Aamon, again, looking for some sort of signal. But she’s barking up the wrong tree.

In the face of not knowing what else to do, she makes the worst decision she could make. She decides to double down.

The brunette wraps an arm around Kirill’s shoulders and leans into him. The movement presses her barely covered tits against his arm. Her focus is on Oaklynn which means she misses the look of pure fucking death the man she’s hanging off of is giving her.

“Beat it,” Kirill seethes.

When the woman doesn’t move fast enough, Oaklynn’s hand shoots out. She grips the woman’s hair hard and physically dragsher away from Kirill. When in front of Aamon, she drops the whore in a heap unceremoniously.

“What the fuck are you doing, bitch?” Aamon seethes the question.

He should be looking at the brunette at his feet, but he’s not. He’s glaring at Oaklynn.

“Did you just call me by something other than my name, little man?” Oaklynn steps closer to Aamon, purposefully stepping on the brunette’s hand while she does.

“You need to know your place,” Aamon quips and puffs up his chest as if he has any fucking power in this situation. He doesn’t know how much danger he’s in right now.

“My place?” Oaklynn doubles over in laughter.

Aamon turns toward Kirill and snarls, “What’s wrong with your bitch?”

Kirill doesn’t hesitate to pull his gun and point it right at Aamon’s head who freezes. Oaklynn makes a tsking sound as she presses her knife against his throat. Our woman doesn’t pay any attention to the sniveling woman at her feet while Aamon’s eyes practically cross. He’s trying to keep one eye on Kirill and one on Oaklynn at the same time.

I have to cover my mouth to hide my chuckle. I fucking love our woman. She’s sexy as fuck when she goes full on Magura on those who underestimate her. She’s a goddess and I’ll be worshiping her later.

My cock throbs as Oaklynn smiles wide. The danger in her eyes is so often overlooked, but then she exposes her full glory and people learn quickly. It’s amazing to watch.

“I’m Mrs. Volkov to you,” Oaklynn enunciates every word, making sure he hears and understands her. “You will never disrespect me again by referring to me as anything other than Mrs. Volkov. You will also not disrespect me or my husbands by offering them women.”

“Men like Mr. Volkov and his associates,” Aamon tries to sound tough, “are used to beautiful women wanting them. That’s all that happened tonight.”

“Just because I’m beautiful, don’t assume I’m stupid,” Oaklynn grins as her words land. “Or weak.”

A whimper comes from the woman whose hand is still pinned to the floor by Oaklynn’s sexy as fuck heels. Oaklynn lifts up her foot and the brunette scurries away as quickly as she can. The pain written all over her face shouldn’t be amusing, but it really is.

“You’re a woman,” Aamon tries to excuse himself, “you should leave the big conversations and decisions to the men.”

“Ohh,” she holds the word out like he’s just given her some kind of epiphany.

She slides her knife along his neck without cutting him as she moves past him and plops herself on Kirill’s lap. My brother doesn’t flinch, nor does he lower his gun.

Baker is taking in our surroundings. I’m sure he’s looking for security coming our way to do anything, but no one has even tried. Either his employees know not to fuck with us, especially Kirill, or this area of the club isn’t covered like it should be.

If he’s basically selling women, I’m sure it’s not covered. Which is just dangerous all around. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am a little bit.

Oaklynn waves her knife back and forth, “Go ahead, menfolk. Discuss and do your manly things.”

Aamon glares at her, clearly forgetting just how much danger he’s in. Baker, who is closer to Aamon, presses the muzzle of his gun against his temple.

“Consider this your warning. Do not disrespect our woman,” Baker warns.

Aamon rasps, “Got it.”

Baker grunts and puts his gun away. His eyes go back to scanning the room, but it’s clear his focus is on Aamon and the threat he poses to our woman.

“It’s bad form to throw women at men, married or not,” Oaklynn leans forward, her eyes intently focused on Aamon. “Unless,” she muses, “you hope those men will make some bad decisions with your little presents and then you have something you can use to blackmail them.”

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