I nod, words above me.
As he works his jaw side to side, Nikolai twists to face Nero. I’m torn between throwing myself in front of Nero’s body and saving myself when Nikolai’s eyes narrow into thin slits.
Luckily for me, death stares can’t kill, so I don’t have to deliberate on a choice that shouldn’t require deliberation.
“Were the bags of flour in her warehouse when they first searched for the coke checked?”
Nero’s dark eyes snap to Eight, who suddenly looks mighty uncomfortable. “I thought it was flour, so I didn’t bother.” Nikolai growls, so Eight talks faster. “It’s just fucking flour?—”
“Yes, that’s right. It’sjustfucking flour.” Nikolai mocks his non-Russian accent. “Which is how we getitpast customs with no fucking issues!” After a quick grind, Nikolai orders Eight to take some men to my warehouse to check the authenticity of the product in the bags of flour, and then he shifts his focus to Nero. “Take your girl home.”
Too hurt to not respond, I murmur, “I’m not his girl.”
Nikolai acts as if I never spoke. “This appears more a mix-up with shipping than blatant disrespect of my authority.”
He goes to leave, but something stops him.
I realize it is me when Nero pulls me behind him before I can protest.
While smirking like he isn’t surprised by Nero’s protectiveness, Nikolai says, “Don’t make me remind her of the consequences when someone upsets myahren.” It is a struggle to hear what he says next. That’s how loud the grinding of Nero’s teeth is when Nikolai’s threat picks up steam. “Sort your shit out, and then have you and your girl on deck Friday afternoon to bring Justine’s dreams to fruition Saturday night.”
“That’s only days away,” I push out, too shocked not to speak. “He’ll need a lot longer than that to fix the mistakes he’s made.”
Nikolai’s smile announces why Justine fell in love with him so fast. It is as corrupt as it is knee-wobbling, and it exposes he is a man with many sides.
“I’ve worked with less.”
Not looking back, he leaves me alone with Nero and too much anger not to displace.
17
NERO
My jaw cracks when Miranda puts enough power behind her swing to knock any man on his ass. Birds fly around my head as a headache instantly forms. But I remain standing—just.
I work my jaw side to side to make sure it isn’t broken before righting my head.
Upon spotting the welt on my face, Miranda stares at me with her mouth open and her eyes wide. She didn’t think she had it in her to retaliate with violence.
I’ve always known it.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she had it in her to tell her emotionally and verbally abusive husband to step the fuck back with more than words. Her gall was just hidden beneath years of manipulation and society’s wrong beliefs of perfection.
That’s done with now.
“You good, butterfly? Or do you want to weapon up to save your pretty hand from getting nicked up?”
She swings again. I dodge this one before I use her imbalance to pull her into my body and lock down her missile-serving arms.
“Let me go!” she screams, her voice echoing even with the warehouse brimming with the goods her husband stole from her.
I don’t heel to her shouted command.
I hold on tight, loving her fight.
There’s nothing sexier than a woman with enough gall to put a grown-ass man in his place.
The thickness of my cock is heard in my words. “I will let you go… when you make me.”
