Page 69 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

He presses his hands to his chest like he’s wounded, but Arslan has made it more than clear that he has no intentions of settling down. I’m not sure what kind of woman could handle him, anyway.

“So did anything happen between the two of you that Xena needs to be worried about?”

I shake my head. “Almost. But Giorgos called and interrupted. That’s how I knew he was tailing me. He claimed someone happened to see me and Belle in the club and informed him, but—”

“The man doesn’t have that kind of network. Not in this neck of the woods.”

“Exactly,” I say. “And I made it clear I didn’t buy his lie for a second. But he showed up here today to make sure Belle wouldn’t be a problem.”

“And what did you say?”

“Do you want the full story or the summary?” I ask. “Actually, they’re both the same: I told him to go fuck himself.”

Arslan laughs. “And he took that well, I’m sure.”

“I don’t care how he takes it. I’m not going to be intimidated by him and his sister. I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

“Meaning Belle,” Arslan suggests.

“Meaning whoever I want,” I repeat.

Arslan smirks. “So, Belle.”

“I’m not some schoolkid with a crush,” I snap. “Plus, she’s turning out to be more trouble than she’s worth. She was standing outside my door while Giorgos was here.”

“Shit. What did she hear?”

“Not nearly enough, since she came in after the meeting convinced that I needed to be saved from Giorgos.”

“You’re kidding.” Arslan chuckles in disbelief.

“I wish I was.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. The room still smells like her. Like floral shampoo and clean skin. It’s like she came in and marked me with her scent. “She would not give it up, either. She was convinced I was afraid of that ridiculous little imp.”

“That ‘little imp’ is the one who is afraid. It’s why he showed up here,” Arslan offers. “He wouldn’t have come if he wasn’t worried the deal was falling apart. He has more to lose than we do.”

“I know it. That’s what I told her.”

“What does that mean? How much have you told her?” It’s not like Arslan to worry, but there is genuine concern on his face.

“I said it in Russian,” I explain. “She pissed me off. I didn’t think she’d understand, but… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?” he presses.

“She looked like she understood. Her face shifted after I said it. She looked… scared.”

The sight of Belle pale and shocked… it made something in my chest twitch. At least, until I understood what it truly meant. I stood there and watched her disappear into her own thoughts, like she was trying to process what I’d said.

"Maybe she was surprised," he suggests. "Or scared because you were shouting in another language. Russian isn’t exactly the language of love, you know? She was probably intimidated. I caught another glimpse of her on my way in here, by the way. She's a small little thing. Fun size."

"I didn't call you in for an office tour," I snap. The thought of Arslan looking at Belle makes my blood boil. "Did you talk to her?"

He holds up both hands. "Simply making an observation, boss. You’ve laid claim to her. I won’t touch.”

“I haven’t—” I wave him away. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I know what it looks like when someone doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Belle didn’t look like that.”

“So what are you going to do, then?”

I lean back in my chair. “I’m going to kill two birds with one stone.”

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