Page 171 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

I can read Belle's lips, but Elise is facing away from me. From the way she waves her sister off, I'd guess she's telling her all about how nice the private plane was and that she's already been settled into a guest bedroom so nice it blows the suite in Iceland out of the water.

Still, Belle pulls her in for another long, desperate hug. She buries her face in her sister's strawberry blonde hair as if it’s the last time.

After another minute, I step away from the window and lean against the front doorjamb. From here, I can hear Belle perfectly.

"I'm so sorry. This has all been such a mess. I can't believe I dragged you into… whatever this is. You should be at home, not traipsing all over—"

"I like traipsing,” Elise says. “Besides, traveling is a kind of education, isn't it?"

Belle arches a brow. "That sounds like something Nikolai would say."

"That's because I did."

At the sound of my voice, Belle snaps her attention to the house. Her entire body goes rigid. I spend a second admiring each curve. Memorizing her, savoring her.

Then her top lip curls in a sneer.

I shake my head and say softly, "You don't want to have this conversation here."

"The hell I don't!"

I jerk my chin towards her sister as a reminder. “Sure about that?”

Realization flickers across Belle’s face. It obscures the rage for a second—then it's back with a vengeance. She opens her mouth again, but before she can say anything, I grab her arm and drag her through the front door.

“Hey!” she shouts. “Get off me!”

I ignore her and haul her down the hallway, even while she tries to dig her heels into the wood floors.

I turn towards a door to the right. I sense the moment her rage turns to panic. Her muscles tighten, and she whimpers.

“Don’t… don’t lock me up.”

I open the door and shove her inside before following her in and closing the door behind us.

Belle looks around, blinking. “You’re locking me in a library?”

“I’m talking to you in a library,” I correct. “If the talk goes poorly, we’ll circle back to locking you up.”

For a few seconds, she’s mesmerized by the floor-to-ceiling shelves that ring the room. Each one is loaded down with books, thousands of them.

When she looks back at me, it’s like blinking back into reality. Cold, hard reality. The wonder fades from her face.

“You drugged me.”

“You annoyed me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is that all it takes? I annoy you and you sedate me?”

“If that were true, you would have been sedated from the moment we met.”

Her hazel eyes are mostly green now. They’re practically nuclear with fury. “You don’t get to control my life. I’m not in your Bratva. I’m not… I’m not Arslan.”

I’m so surprised that I snort out a laugh. “Thank fuck for that. You’d be a terrible second-in-command.”

“Screw you.”

“Are you honestly offended?”

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