Page 18 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

She narrows her eyes to slits. “More or less.”

“That’s cute.”

“None of this is ‘cute,’” she snarls. “Blackmail isn’t ‘cute.’ White collar crime isn’t ‘cute.’”

I lean forward and pick a piece of lint off of her shoulder. Her entire body stiffens. I can practically see sparks shooting off of her from the pure chemistry flowing between us. When I lean back, her body naturally inclines towards me. Like a magnet helpless against the pull.

“No,” I agree, “it’s cute that you think I’d go to all that trouble for you. As if I couldn’t get my way regardless. As if you have any control over the outcome.”

Her face goes slack, hurt or shock or both flickering across her features. “You just admitted to all of it.”

“Did I?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so. That was a theory. Your theory.”

“Then what’s the truth?”

“Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“I asked for it, didn’t I?”

I chuckle. “That’s just it. I’m not sure you’re ready to accept that that is exactly what happened.”

She shakes her head. “Thatwhatis what happened? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You asked for it,” I whisper, leaning forward. “I was a stranger on a flight. I had no fucking clue who you were until you fell in my lap. Then I followed you into the bathroom, and you begged me to fuck you. There was no trick. No ulterior motive. You wanted it, beautiful Belle. You craved it. You pleaded for it.”

We’re only inches apart. Her eyes flick from mine to my mouth and back again. I watch as the realization slowly settles over her.

She wanted me. She still wants me.

But then Belle jerks back, her top lip curled in distaste. “You… you… you asshole!”

“You say that like I took something from you. I didn’t. You gave it to me. And then you whimpered for more.”

“Asshole,” she hisses again. “So you expect me to believe this is all just some random coincidence?”

“Yes. Because that’s what it is.”

She shakes her head. “No. You have a plan.”

“That’s truer than you realize,” I admit. “I always have a plan. You don’t become me by letting bullshit like fate and destiny determine things.”

“And who are you, exactly?”

The truth is sitting on the tip of my tongue. I could tell her. It’s not like she could do anything about it, anyway.

But I’m not here to traumatize the woman. I just need her to cooperate.

“I’m the CEO of Zhukova Incorporated,” I say simply. “And I’m willing to make this worth your time.”

She hesitates for a second, her gaze raking over me. Then she shakes her head. “No.”

But I saw the hesitation. The hunger in her eyes. I’ve seen it countless times before. People hungry for money, for power, for a favor. I’ve become adept at understanding what people need and making that happen for them…

For a price, of course.

“Cash.”

Her eyes flare again. “No.”

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