Page 42 of Paved in Hate

We’re outside. She just walked past Boris.

Sure enough, less than a minute later, I get a text from one of our bouncers out front.

Boss, your wife just walked in.

As if I couldn’t get any more pissed off, I turn the corner and see my wife in the middle of a goddamn strip club wearing a pink dress that hugs all of her mouthwatering curves. The tiny sweater she’s wearing isn’t doing shit to hide anything. I study her for a few seconds from the shadows, nearly breaking a damn molar when I realize she’s not wearing any panties.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is she thinking?

I see Matvey come in through the front doors, scanning the crowd for Katya. When he sees her, his shoulders relax and then he looks around until he sees me. Giving me a nod, he pulls out his phone and sends me another text.

You need me to stay?

No, brother. I got this. Thanks.

She’s lucky I was in the gym and saw her sneak by. She just hailed a fucking cab in the middle of the goddamn night.

Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.

I see him shake his head, just as pissed as I am that she put herself in danger like this. Putting his phone away, he gives me a quick wave before leaving to go back home. Matvey has no desire to hang out in a strip club, and I’m not surprised to see him making a quick exit.

Staying in the shadows, I lean against the wall and watch Katya, curious to see what she’ll do. She looks so fucking innocent standing in the middle of my club. Mostly naked women surround her, but none of them can even come close to comparing to her. I don’t even notice them. I’m too busy watching her tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear as she looks around and blushes.

When she walks to the bar, Mila gives me a quick look, waiting until I give a nod before she leans closer to take Katya’s order. My sweet wife is oblivious to everything as she orders a drink, tapping her fingers nervously against the bar as Mila makes it. Taking the money Katya hands her so it doesn’t look suspicious, she hands the drink over and then walks off to help another customer.

A group of three women saunter over to the bar next to her, looking like they’re well on their way to drunk. The redhead on the end can barely keep herself upright, and when they start talking, probably way too loudly, I see Katya’s back stiffen. She grips her glass tighter as her cheeks flush even darker, and after a couple more minutes, she climbs off the barstool, flashing way more leg than I’d like, and starts walking around the club.

I never let her out of my sight, staying behind her as I keep to the dark corners, and when I see a man walk over to her, everything grows deadly calm inside me. He’s eyeing Katya like he wants to do everything to her that I want to do, and god does it piss me the fuck off. When he smiles and takes a step closer, saying who the hell knows what kind of shit pick-up line, Katya takes a step back, making it clear she’s not interested. Not even seeing her dismissal of him can lessen my rage. It’s two seconds away from consuming me, and as soon as I see him reach out and grab her wrist, it’s like he lit the damn fuse, because I fucking explode.

Storming over to them, I breach the distance in seconds, and the fucker has just enough time to look up and see me before my fist is connecting with his nose, shattering it with a satisfying crunch that immediately has blood pouring down his face. Katya lets out a squeal as I step closer and grab the man’s shirt, keeping him upright when it’s obvious his knees are seconds away from giving out.

“You think you can touch her?”

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, spraying blood everywhere as he coughs.

The look of pure terror in his shit-brown eyes appeases me enough to not pull my gun out and shoot the bastard, but just barely. Several bouncers come rushing over as the crowd scurries away to avoid getting hit if this turns into a fight. I let go of the man who quickly brings his hands to his nose in a sad attempt at stopping the flow of blood. Wrapping an arm around a terrified-looking Katya, I pull her body against mine and point my finger at the man.

“This is my wife, and if you ever lay your hands on her again, I will fucking kill you. Understood?”

He quickly shakes his head, not even daring to glance at Katya when he mumbles another apology. I look over at the bouncer and nod.

“Get him the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” he quickly says and then grabs the man, hauling his ass out as he leaves a trail of blood behind him.

“Vitaly,” Katya starts to say, but I hold up a finger to cut her off. Keeping my arm securely around her, I lead her across the club and down a hallway. Opening my office door, I walk in with her, slamming the door shut behind me.

I see her mouth open, and I raise a brow at her. “Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in by sneaking out on your own?” I rake a hand through my hair, so pissed I can barely think. “A fucking cab,ptichka? You just ran out and hailed a fucking cab? What if someone had seen you or recognized you or realized that you were my wife and decided to use it against me? And your feet?” I gesture at the heels she’s wearing. “Jesus Christ!”

“How do you know I took a cab, and would you really care if something happened to me?”

“Matvey followed you, and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you haven’t been home in three nights, and you’ve been spending all your time here.” She waves her hands out, indicating the strip club we’re in. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you’ve been out here doing, orwhoyou’ve been doing, I should say.”

Her blue eyes turn glassy as she gives a harsh laugh. “I heard all about your reputation at the bar. Tell me, Vitaly, is there anyone in this city you haven’t fucked?” She lets out another laugh that almost turns into a sob. “I mean, besides me.”

I scrub a hand over my face, remembering the drunk women who’d been talking next to her at the bar.

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