Page 146 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

Her eyes flare. “There’s no music.”

“Don’t worry. There will be.” I grab her hand and lead her to the center of the dance floor.

The moment I wrap an arm around her waist, I catch sight of the orchestra hurrying to pick up their instruments. A few moments later, they begin to play.

Belle chuckles. “Do you get everything you want the second you want it?”

“Sometimes even sooner.”

“Must be nice.”

I tighten my hold on her, molding her body to mine. “I’ve told you, Belle: all you have to do is ask. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Belle looks up at me. I have a feeling we both want the same thing right now.

Her hand clasps down around my arm and her lips part in a soft exhale. It doesn’t matter where we are—the middle of a gala, in the corner booth of a restaurant, crammed in an airplane bathroom—this woman does things to me.

Right now, nothing else matters.

But just before I can lean in and make her wish come true, a flash of red catches my eye. I glance over and see I’ve caught someone’s attention.

Someone who was not supposed to be here.

34

BELLE

This broken kiss hurts more than anything that’s come before it.

Maybe it’s because there are so many people around. On the airplane, in his office, in the hot springs, we were always alone. What we were doing felt like a dirty little secret, a hidden guilty pleasure. No witnesses. Forget about it as soon as it happened.

But here? Now? We’re in the middle of a party, surrounded by my sister and Nikolai’s employees and God knows who else.

Not that you’d know it by the way he was looking at me up until about two seconds ago. If all you saw was Nikolai’s face, you’d think we were the only two people in the room.

Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.I don’t have the words to explain what that little sentence did to me.

But then Nikolai looks away. His eyes darken, focusing on something over my head, and he shifts away from me.

“Nikolai?” I ask in confusion.

He doesn’t look down at me. His eyes stay fixed on whatever he’s looking at. “Stay here,” he orders. “I’ll be back.”

I turn and watch as Nikolai crosses the room—and heads straight for another woman.

Not just any woman, though. I recognize her. The day Roger surprised me at Zhukova Incorporated, I saw Nikolai in a meeting with this woman and Giorgos Simatou.

She looks much different today. Her dress is flaming red and dips dangerously low across her chest. I’m honestly surprised I can’t see her belly button. Her hair is slicked back into a tight, posh ponytail, and even from across the room, I can see her lips are slathered in bright red lipstick. She looks like an Instagram model, the kind who’s always posting from private jets and white sand beaches.

Nikolai grinds to a halt in front of her and starts furiously whispering something I can’t hear.

I feel exposed standing in the middle of the dance floor all alone, so I make my way to the edge of the room with everyone else.

Elise is still standing with the blonde boy she introduced herself to when she arrived, but I can tell she’s watching me, too. Watchingus, actually. Her eyes keep darting from Nikolai to me and back again.

“Champagne, miss?” A waiter asks, holding a tray of champagne flutes in front of my face, obscuring Nikolai and the woman from view.

I take one, mostly because I seem to have lost my voice all of the sudden, and sip on it as I watch my date talk to another woman.

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