Page 41 of Love to Defy You
Another couple joins our small circle, and Alek squeezes my hand so hard I have to bite back a yelp.
When I glance up, I come face to face with Enzo Messina, the guy from the fondue restaurant. His shoulder brushes against mine.
“Good evening,” Enzo says. “Aleksandr, Willow, I’m so glad you could join us tonight.”
Alek stiffens and tugs me closer to his side, wrapping a protective arm around my waist. “Not like we had much of a choice.”
“Willow, you look stunning tonight,” Enzo says. “Birgitta here was admiring your dress from across the room, so I wanted to make the introduction.”
The blonde on Enzo’s arm beams at me, her round, blue eyes sparkling beneath the crystal chandelier. She’s wearing a blush-pink designer gown that hugs her petite curves, and when she gives me an eager wave, her boobs bounce. They look much too large for her small frame.
“Allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Birgitta Lundberg,” Enzo says. “Her father owns a Swedish pharmaceuticals company.”
Despite the girlfriend on his arm, Enzo makes no attempt to hide his attraction to me. His eyes dip down to my sheer skirt, where he lingers far too long on the junction of my thighs, and his molten attention sends heat rushing to the same place.
With a dark growl, Alek pulls me away from the group and leads me toward the exit.
“It was nice to meet you, Willow!” Birgitta calls after me with an effervescent Swedish accent.
Alek’s grip on my wrist tightens, and he leads me down a hallway lined with plush Persian rugs and rare oil paintings hanging on the walls. Alek throws open the first door he finds, which leads into a small powder room, and tugs me inside.
When he slams the door shut, I jump at the noise.
“It’s him.” Alek runs his fingers through his hair and tugs on the ends. There isn’t much space for him to pace back and forth, but he does anyway.
I press my back against the door to give him room. “Who? Enzo?”
“He’s the leader,” Alek says in a low voice. “I recognize his voice. He’s the one who slit that guy’s throat in the chamber.”
“Wait, what?” My spine crawls, and the image of him lifting his beer to me at the fondue restaurant—while arousal dripped between my legs—flashes across my memory. “We should leave.”
“We can’t.” He hurls his fist at the wall and punches a hole through it. “If we do, they’ll probably kill me, and then Enzo will either kill you or take you for himself. Fucking bastard!”
I put my palms flat on his chest to stop him. “If he’s going around killing people, maybe we should just leave Zurich altogether.”
Alek leans against the wall, heaving for breath. “I don’t think that would guarantee our safety. If Mikhail’s to be believed, this organization is everywhere. They have their shadowy fingers in everything from Washington, DC, to Moscow.”
A fist starts banging on the door behind my back, and I startle with a high-pitched yelp.
“You two better not be fucking in there,” Mikhail calls. “It’s time to eat.”
Alek reaches around me and opens the door. “Speak of the devil.”
Mikhail’s hallmark shit-eating grin flashes across his face. “What? Did your girlfriend call out my name while you ravaged her?”
“If everyone around here can get away with murder, maybe I should kill you.” Alek grabs my hand and pulls me back into the hall. As we walk past Mikhail, I’m close enough to smell the weed lingering on his clothes.
No wonder he’s cracking jokes at a time like this. Josie said something about getting through these events with the Order, so perhaps it’s their way of coping with the terror this organization instills.
But Mikhail has already made it through the trials, so as long as they both keep the Order a secret, they’re fine.
It’s Alek who isn’t in the clear yet.
Mikhail’s bloodshot eyes crinkle at the corners when he lets out a booming laugh. “You won’t kill me. You love me.”
“I loathe you.”
“There’s a fine line between love and loathing,” Mikhail says. “As for me, I love a good Wagyu steak, but I hate the indigestion afterward.”
