Page 64 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

He sighs. “Now, now, Nikolai, that’s certainly not necessary.”

“If you really aren’t having me tracked, then you have nothing to worry about,” I say. “And if you are, then you won’t have to worry about me violating our deal. Because I’ll end it myself.”

Arslan would be having conniptions if he could hear me right now. We’ve been hashing out the details of this deal for months, and now, I’m threatening to blow the entire thing up. And for what?

For Belle, Arslan would argue.You’re obsessing. You’re fixated.

But he’d be wrong. This isn’t about a woman—this is about respect. Not for Xena Simatou, who should be lucky I’ve agreed to marry her at all.

But for myself.

“Don’t be hasty,” Giorgos protests.

“You want to talk about respect?” I continue acidly. “I won’t be disrespected by being tracked in my own goddamn city. You’ve been warned. If I find out it’s happening again, your sister will be the lone Simatou leading the family. And you’ll be cooling off in a fucking morgue.”

I hang up the phone just as I step outside.

The evening is humid, the alleyway devoid of any cross-breeze or relief. I slide into the driver’s seat of my car and crank the air conditioner on high.

And I’m hit with the smell of vomit coming from the backseat. I turn and find the Big Gulp full of vile sludge sitting in the cupholder.

I grab it and chuck it out the window, letting it splatter against the pavement and the side of the building.

Fuck this night.

My phone rings again. It’s Giorgos. No doubt calling to try and get the last word. But I’m done talking to him.

It’s like I told Belle: the next move is in his hands now. He should choose wisely.

14

BELLE

Elise’s door is still closed when I get ready to leave in the morning, though I can hear her moving around behind it.

“I’m going to work,” I yell through the door. “I’ll be back by five and we can get dinner, okay?”

She doesn’t answer. Not that I expected her to. We’re only a few hours into the silent treatment period. Long way yet to go.

I sigh and head downstairs. As soon as I step onto the sidewalk, there’s a car and a personal driver waiting for me. Part of me expected to find the curb empty when I came outside. After the way Nikolai bailed last night like the penthouse was on fire, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

He’s not your boyfriend, I think.He doesn’t owe you anything.

And thank goodness for that, is what I tell myself. The man is a criminal. In the harsh light of day, I see his behavior at the club last night in a whole new light.

He is violent and rash and worst of all, unpredictable. One minute he’s burning hot, the next he’s Arctic cold.

“Do your job and leave,” I mumble to myself as I climb into the backseat. “Just do your job and leave.”

And by the time I walk into the lobby of Zhukova Incorporated, that’s exactly what I’m determined to do. I’m going to keep my head down and do as I’m asked.

Then I’m going to put this chapter of my life to a close.

But as I’m walking to the conference room, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around just as a broad-shouldered man covered in tattoos passes me.

“Ma’am,” he says, a sly smile tilting the corner of his mouth as he struts past.

For reasons I can’t explain, a shiver moves through me.

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