Page 70 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

Arslan screws his face up. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re on call tonight,” I tell him. “Be ready for anything.”

* * *

Belle climbs into the back, closes the door, and digs through her purse for some chapstick before she looks up and realizes I’m sitting in the driver’s seat of the car that was supposed to ferry her back to the Zinc.

“What the—Where’s the driver?” she asks.

“At your service.”

She inhales sharply and then lunges for the back door. When she pulls on the handle, nothing happens.

“Child locks, Nikolai? Really?” she snaps.

I shrug. “You should always check who's driving before you climb into a car. It’s a big city. You can’t afford to be so careless.”

“Let me out.” Her jaw clenches. “I have to get home to Elise.”

“I sent her dinner already. She’s fine.”

“You what? How did you…” She sighs. “Did you talk to her?”

“The maids said she has been in her room all day. I doubt she’s ready to talk to you, anyway. You might as well come with me.”

“I’d rather sit alone and eat room service than go anywhere with you.”

"Liar."

Her hazel eyes narrow to slits. "You don't know a thing about the truth. You wouldn't know the truth if it slapped you in the face."

"And you'll never know the truth with that attitude."

Her jaw works back and forth. She doesn't want to ask. It's obvious she wants to ignore me. But she just can't fight her curiosity. "What does that mean?"

"It means I've always preferred to have important conversations over dinner."

Belle leans forward, carrying her floral scent with her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Whatever you want to ask," I answer calmly. We're only a few inches apart now, her pouty lips pursed in indecision.

"You'll answer my questions?”

I nod.

"Why?"

I shake my head. "No more answers until you agree."

She stares at me for a few seconds. Then she lets loose a long sigh and crawls forward between the front seats.

Once she's settled in the passenger seat, her seatbelt strapped over her chest, she folds her hands in her lap and nods.

"Fine. Dinner. I'm ready."

I laugh. She may think she is, but she has no fucking idea what’s coming.

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