I throw a solid punch to his jaw and my fist slams into the flesh of his cheek with a loud crack. He’s surprised by the hit and his head wildly jerks back before he’s able to recover.
“In due time, Kroshka.” He chuckles, rubbing his cheek as he moves me aside to open the door. “In due time.”
I don’t know what comes over me. I know I should stay quiet and cower away. I have no weapons, no real means to defend myself against this monster of a man, but all I can focus on is doing whatever I can to hurt him like he hurt me. To draw blood from that stupid, smug face of his.
“Hey!” I yell, chasing after him as he walks down the hallway. “We aren’t done here asshole, not by a long shot.”
I grab a hold of his elbow and jerk his gigantic body around to face me.
“They will find you, and when they do, you’ll wish you never laid a single fucking finger on me.”
Threatening him is irrational. He knew what he was doing and what the repercussions would be when he touched me, but I want to see his fear. I want him as terrified as I was.
“I know your men.” He says, brushing me off of him. “Better than you ever will. Trust me, Kroshka, there will be no love lost. Not over a toy, like you.”
“A toy?” I scoff, stepping in front of him to face him head on. “I’m a fucking person and I didn’t ask for any of that.”
“Refresh my memory.” He says, eyeing me up and down with a clear look of disdain. “Did you ever tell me to stop?”
No.
“Did you ever say no?” He presses further.
No, again.
“My point precisely.” He says, laughing at my silence. “You simply needed to say the word, but you didn’t. That, my sweet girl, was your truth. You don’t want to admit it, but your body craved my touch.”
I stare up at him for a few moments, at a complete loss for words.
This man is a fucking sociopath. A literally fucking sociopath.
As he moves to step away, I etch every single detail of his face into my brain. I want to know, beyond any doubt, that I have the right man when I come for him. And I will come for him. Whoever this Dimitri asshole really is, he’s a dead man.
“Before I forget,” He says, stopping a few inches past me. “If I were you, I’d keep this brief encounter of ours quiet. The Reapers are a valuable asset to The Organization and I’d hate for something to happen to them because their confused little toy foolishly threw herself at their boss.”
Their boss.
“Be sure to clean yourself up before your men get home.” He says, flashing me a cocky smirk. “I’m sure those possessive bastards would hate to see how wet another man can make their toy.”
And just like that, the rage within me boils over. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but we’re well beyond that now. How dare he threaten my men? How dare he insinuate that what he did was anything but assault? Dimitri foolishly thinks he can throw the weight of his position around and that it’ll intimidate me, but newsflash asshole, I don’t give a fuck what your job is. I’m not a part of The Organization and the only rules I abide by are my own.
I clench my fists so tightly they turn white. I’ve never been so enraged. Never felt so incredibly unhinged. If I had the power to, I would rip Dimitri apart limb by limb and he knows it. He stares at me again and for the first time, I see a glimmer of unease cross his face.Good motherfucker, you should be scared.I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I know one thing: Dimitri will die. And I’ll be the one smirking as he takes his final breath.
“We interrupting something?”
Cyrus.
At the sound of his voice, I freeze and shame flushes my cheeks almost immediately. I slowly turn around and come face to face with Tristan and Cyrus as they step onto the second floor landing. I know what it must look like to them. Even without a mirror in sight, I can tell my skin is flushed, my hair is mussed from trying to fight him off, and my knees are still wobbly from the orgasm he forced out of me.
“It’s not-” I stammer, struggling to find the right words.
“Relax, Kroshka.” Dimitri chastises, wrapping his arm around my waist in a gesture that is anything but friendly. If they didn’t already assume something happened, seeing his aggressive touch is the nail in the coffin. “The twinslovesharing their toys. Isn’t that right, boys?”
Cyrus only stares at us, his brows furrowed in a mixture of rage and disbelief.
“Of course.” Tristan offers, his features smooth and his tone even. “What’s ours is yours, brother.”
Brother.
