Page 29 of Dark Possession
Alina, at a charity event? But before I can piece it together, Peta drops the next bomb.
“She’s not alone. Sergei is there, too.”
A sharp jolt of fury shoots through me.
The fuck she is.
This isn't a coincidence. It can’t be. Not with the man tied to the very turf war I’m trying to navigate.
Heat creeps up my spine, my grip tightening around the wheel until my knuckles turn white. There’s no hesitation—I whip the car around, tires screeching against the pavement.
I don’t know what Alina’s playing at. But she’s about to find out exactly what happens when she crosses me.
When I walk into the function, it’s all crystal chandeliers and overpriced wine. The kind of place she’d blend into if she weren’t seated with him and if she weren’t severely underdressed.
My lips twist. Except for the single pair of shoes I left her. Fat lot of good that did keeping her contained.
They’re in a corner, sipping coffee like old friends. Laughing.
My blood ignites. She’s smiling at him—at him. The thought of his hand brushing hers, of his gaze lingering on her, is enough to make my fists curl.
I move toward them, forcing myself not to run. Her laughter dies the second she sees me. Alina pales, her knuckles tightening on the coffee cup. Good. She should be scared.
I reach them, sliding my hands onto her shoulders. My grip is firm, claiming.
“You got here before me,” I declare, my voice cool, laced with steel. The lie rolls off my tongue like honey. I want him to think this is all orchestrated, that she’s with me—not him.
Sergei doesn’t bother hiding his irritation, his jaw tightening as his eyes narrow at me. But he knows better than to make a scene. Not here. Not with all these people watching.
“Alina,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “A word.”
Her hand trembles slightly as I pull her to her feet and lead her away. I don’t give her a choice. My grip on her arm ensures that. She stumbles slightly in her heels, trying to keep up with my long strides.
When we’re far enough from prying eyes, I pull her into a secluded room. My fury churns hotter as I shut the door behind us and shove a chair under the handle. She watches me, wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice is low but sharp enough to cut. “I paid a lot for you, Alina. Do you think this is a game?”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. There’s defiance in her eyes, buried under the guilt. “I need another fifty grand.”
Her words hit me like a slap even though I know about Koka’s addendum. My mouth twists into a humorless smile. “So, what was your plan? Huh? Go back to auctioning yourself off?”
Her gaze drops. The silence that follows says enough. That’s exactly what she was planning. Heat rushes to her face, and she stammers, “I—I didn’t have another choice.”
I laugh, but it’s cold, fueled by the fire burning in my veins. “You think you can just keep selling yourself? You really don’t seem to understand.” I step closer, looming over her. My voice drops to a lethal whisper. “You can’t sell what isn’t yours. I. Own. You.”
Her breath hitches as I grab her wrist, pulling her into me. The soft scent of her skin cuts through my fury, but it doesn’t cool it. No, it just sharpens the edge.
I back her toward the desk in the corner of the room, the tension crackling between us like a live wire. “Let me make it very clear for you, Alina,” I growl, my fingers tightening just enough to keep her where I want her. “You’re mine. No one else will ever touch you.”
She shivers, but it’s not fear in her eyes now. It’s something else—something darker, more dangerous. A challenge. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I don’t give her time to argue, to protest. My hands are on her, rough and possessive, gripping her waist as I yank her flush against me. A gasp escapes her lips, but I don’t let it turn into words—I capture her mouth in a searing, punishing kiss.
I move her until her back is against a desk, the wood digging into her thighs as I spread them apart, forcing her to feel just how furious I am, just how much she belongs to me. She tries to push against my chest, a feeble attempt at control, but I seize her wrists, pinning them above her head.
“You don’t get to run, Alina,” I growl against her throat, my teeth grazing her skin. “You don’t get to decide who you sell yourself to. That choice was made the moment I bought you.”
She trembles, a mix of fear and something darker curling in her wide eyes. “You think you own me?” she breathes, her voice unsteady.
