“Do you feel what you do to me? Just give me one night,” he pleaded. “I’ll fuck you so good you’ll never forget me.”
I was as still as a tree. “Let me go.”
Of course, he didn’t listen.
I gave him one more chance. “Monsieur, let me go.”
Instead the fool pressed his lips to my skin for a kiss.
I pushed myself back and smacked a blow so hard across his face I knew he saw stars.
Shocked, he staggered away from me and hit the wall. His mouth was agape with disbelief. “You fucking bitch,” he said in wonder as he pulled away the hand he had held to his bruised face. “You hit me!”
I shrugged. “I did warn you.”
He came for me then.
I wanted to roll my eyes into my skull.
He grabbed my shirt and pulled me up to his face. “How dare you? You fucking cheap whore!”
I struck his wrist hard with the edge of my hand, and he howled in pain. You can’t blame a man for making that racket when his limb has shifted out of joint. To his credit, he lunged again for me, but his legs crumbled under him from sheer pain. It sent him crashing to the cold ground. Some people standing outside the kebab shop in the distance turned at the sight of his drunken howl.
It was not the end of the matter though. That ridiculous cognac had put fire into his veins.
“I’m going to kill you,” he screamed and once again came for me. I waited and at the right moment swung my frame around just in time to land a swift kick across the unprotected side of his face.
He flew backwards, and collapsed on the ground, a battered, pathetic mess. I glanced at the square heel of my boots and wondered just how much damage it had done to him. I felt a bit guilty: I did take all the hundreds of dollars he pushed across the bar to me. The money would go towards the orders for fashion samples that Britney and I would need in the next few days. Anyway, someone had to teach him some manners. He would think twice about using this technique to approach another woman.
“Sorry Monsieur,” I said.
I was just about to walk away when I felt a commanding presence behind me. All the hairs on my body instantly stood and I swiveled around in response to the danger I could sense. There was indeed danger. A man detached himself from the shadows. It was the last man I wanted to see. The owner of the pair of icy blue eyes that had disrupted me in the bar and put me in my bitter mood.
Maxim Ivankov.
So he really had been present at the bar. I couldn’t wait to find out why. He walked up to me and stood with the streetlight directly overhead. It made him appear even more forbidding and brutal. I could feel my heart start to thump.
“Why the fuck are you on my tail?” I snarled.
He smiled darkly, and it startled me, just like it always had.
“It’s nice to see you too,” he drawled. His voice was like waves crashing upon rocks. It could take centuries but in the end it would pulverize the rocks into sand. “What’s it been, seven years?”
“Well, thanks for helping.”
He gazed down at Antoine, and shook his head. “You didn’t need the help. The idiot didn’t know what he had coming.”
“Neither do you apparently,” I said and instantly felt a frisson of fear strike me at the threat I had just issued to the one man I knew could hurt me with just his gaze.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice sending chills down my body and I knew I had overstepped my boundaries. We were mortal enemies and the less involvement I had with him the better for me.
“Fuck off,” I muttered under my breath, and began to walk away.
At first there was nothing but the sound of my footsteps. I prayed he wouldn’t come after me. He didn’t.
“Call your father,” his voice rang after me.
My heart slammed into my chest. For a second I couldn’t move. What did that imply? Was my dad alright?
His father and mine had been bloody rivals for as long as anyone could remember. Between them, death was usually almost always on the table.
I whirled around to confront him, but he was gone, as silently as he had arrived.
Chapter Three
Freya
I didn’t slow down until I arrived at my apartment and my heart was racing in my chest as I locked the door behind me.
“Freya!” Britney called as she headed from the kitchen towards me, a teddy bear head band holding back her messy hair, and a pot of noodles in her hand. She appeared at the doorway as I was locking the door behind me. I turned around to face her.