Page 53 of Brutal Union
“Thank you, Rebecca,” Sho calls sweetly, still hovering too close for comfort as his eyes dart across my face.
“I’ll see you in three days for a follow-up,” she says, waving a hand over her shoulder.
“Keep siding with him and you won’t have a job,” I shout.
“If you weren’t ill, I’d cut your tongue out for that,” she replies flatly, just as the door creaks open—thenslamsshut behind her.
Sho grins teasingly, winking at me as he finally gives me enough time to breathe. He turns and walks casually into my open-concept kitchen, his fingers already reaching for drawers he shouldn’t know the location of.
“I trust you have sugar in this castle,” he muses.
“Why are you evenhere, Sho?” I groan, forcing myself upright despite the pull in my side.
“Why don’t I see sugar?”
“Because you don’tlivehere.”
“That’s a hell of a way to treat your boyfriend.”
I glare. “You’renotmy boyfriend.”
He pauses mid-rummage, then glances over his shoulder with that infuriating, slow-burn smile. “Say that again.”
“Are you threatening me?” I growl, placing both hands on my hips as my eyes narrow on him.
“Never,” he hisses, voice low and simmering with something volatile. He steps forward with that signature lazy swagger, the kind that fools people into thinking he’s calm—until they catch themanic glazecreeping into his eyes. The heat behind them is unhinged, possessive, lethal.
“But I don’t think you should say that again,” he adds, each word soaked in a quiet warning.
I swallow, my throat dry, but I don’t step back. I hold my ground, spine stiff, chin tilted up to meet him head-on.
“I’m sorry,” I bite out, my voice cold and deliberate. “When exactly did you become myboyfriend?”
He closes the space like a threat with legs, eating up the air between us in two slow, predatory steps. Close enough now that I can feel the rage humming off his skin like a fever.
“I told you, Nadia,” he growls, jaw tight. “I’m a one-woman guy.”
“So?” I snap, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck does that have to do with me?”
His nostrils flare. “It means I expect you to be the same.”
“I didn’tagreeto that.”
His hand shoots out—fast, sudden—but he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. His fingers hover inches from my throat, twitching like he’s deciding between stroking it or squeezing it.
His voice drops even lower, guttural, razor-sharp.
“You don’t have a choice.”
My blood spikes. Anger floods my chest, white-hot and laced with a thrill I hate admitting I feel.
“Excuseme?” I hiss, every syllable dipped in venom.
His gaze is molten. Hungry. Dangerous.
“You heard me, Hime,” he breathes, stepping in so close I have to tilt my head just to keep meeting his eyes. “I am your boyfriend. You aremine.”
“I don’t think I am,” I mock, tilting my head from side to side with each word.
