Page 3 of The Tsar's Obsession
“You’re so cute! In a murderous kinda way.” The devastatingly beautiful girl slightly shook her head, that smile sending my soul into turmoil. “Come! Come dance with me!”
And just like that, she took control and pulled me further into her, guiding my hands to land on her waist, choking me on my own breath.
We swayed, lost in oblivion.
She was divine, and I was damned. She was life, and I was death’s messenger. She was a breath of fresh air, while I reeked ofblood money. She was clean, pure—untouched by darkness—while I was drowning in sin, filthy to my very core.
“Kak tebya zovut?”I blurted out, asking for her name, suddenly petrified that our meeting was fleeting.
“Mia!A tebya?”She returned the question slyly, but before I could open my mouth, someone tugged on her arm.
“We have to go.” The intruder informed her in Russian, pulling her away.
“Podozhdi!”As if latching onto a life raft, my hand closed around her wrist, and I commanded her to wait, having absolutely no plan. With a satisfied smirk, she turned back, crushing her lips into mine and shocking me with her bravery.
Oh. No.
This wasn’t a kiss; it was a fucking death sentence. This was her enslaving me, breaking me, taking away all my power. On instinct, I pressed her hot, sweaty, delicious body into mine and drowned in the sweetest sensation.
This was an abyss. Bottomless. “Mmm!” With her arms around my neck, our kiss deepened, turning desperate, needy, and wild.
My tongue tasted hers—slow, deliberate, and charged with need. Her fingers tangled in my hair, amplifying the moment. I never wanted to let her go.
And I wouldn’t.
The joy and positivity she breathed into me turned me into an addict. I wanted this. Her. I wanted it! And I always got what I wanted.
But she broke the kiss and stepped away, about to make her escape with a little giggle. No, I needed more; I craved more. I woulddieif I didn’t get more!
Mia was a tall girl, but no match for me. No match for my need and desire for her. I was strong, I dominated, and I was the boss. I didn’t care about the consequences of my actions—that was for others, not me. So I immediately pulled her back in, squishing her against me, trapping her, and tasting her once more.
She had no idea whose eye she caught. What could be the harm, right? A momentary attraction to a handsome stranger sealed witha hot kiss. But neither of us knew that those few seconds of intense rapture decided both our fates.
As if coming up for air, she pulled back and plunged her teeth into my bottom lip, the tip of her nose grazing mine.
“Mmm…” she hummed against my lips, both of us gasping for air. I held her close, taking in that divine smell of her skin. “Your lips are so soft. Maybe I’ll see you again one day? Don’t let me go next time.”
I heard the words, not understanding anything. Except that her hands touched my cheeks one last time, and she unraveled my obedient arms away from her. With one last devious look that would forever burn into my memory, Mia disappeared out of my sight and out of the club.
I knew I’d see her again—deep down, I was certain. Mia haunted my dreams and warped my reality, rendering every other woman irrelevant. She was my destiny, and she would be mine, no matter what it took.
Nine years. It took nine years.
2
Temptations
Mia
Itwasahot,humid August afternoon, and it was Sunday—my least favorite day of the week. Not that Sundays meant much to me; I worked on the weekends too. Today felt different, though. Like I was finally ready to stop lying to myself. Like I’d had enough of my own bullshit.
Of course, it could have also been the fact that I was hosting an open house with my colleague, Ari, a man whose attention I worked hard to avoid, but a man who didn’t give up.
Maybe I’d just had enough of his bullshit.
The thought turned over in my mind for the millionth time: why did I co-sign this listing? For the money? It wasn’t worth it; I had to spend hours with him. The commission on this whopping twenty-nine million dollar condo would be beyond handsome, but this man couldn’t take a hint or even an outright rejection.
It wasn’t the money; it was autopilot. Be the best, be the good girl, be accommodating, do the most.Toomuch. It was becoming too much. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and adjusted the hem of my dress, scanning the pristine marble counters like I gave a damn.
