A Treacherous Killer-Dark Bratva Romance

twenty three

Maks

I shouldn't have followed them. I knew it was stupid the moment I saw Emil's Ferrari turn down the street where the Beyala Roza was located.

Why the hell was she taking him there? Does she not recall the last time she stupidly stumbled into the Roza? She was toeing in dangerous waters bringing that rich prick here.

I had a funny feeling about him the moment he appeared by Nadia's fathers side the night of the auction. He hadn't looked at Nadia like a man with good intentions, he looked at her almost predatory.

Something had flashed in his eyes whenever he locked eyes with me. It almost resembled familiarity but I knew that to not be true. I had never met Emil before and wasn't familiar with the Zolotov's name.

I had called off Dima, who was too busy downing drinks and wasn't even watching the pair closely anyway. I should have hidden myself more securely, but a demented part of me wanted the princess to see me, wanted her to know I was watching her.

She took the bait, coming to stand before me in that short black dress that showed off her long legs and accentuated her curves. The only thing missing was her blood red lipstick, but I was secretly pleased she hadn't worn it for him.

When she had lashed out at me and then retreated back to him, taking his arm and letting him lead her out of the restaurant, it nearly drove me mad wanting to know what she was planning. I was curious to see if she really would give him what he so obviously wanted from her, or shy away like I knew she was accustomed to.

I watch as Emil pulls over along the street and goes around to help Nadia out. They walk up the sidewalk and skip the line of club goers lined along the building. The bouncer must recognize her because he immediately lets them in. I give them a few seconds head start before quickly exiting my own car and follow behind them.

The club is packed as per usual and I glance around trying to set sights on Nadia and Emil. I spot them by the bar ordering drinks. Nadia is leaned close to Emil, who is whispering something in her ear. I clench my jaw when he wraps his hand around her lower back and presses her closer to him. She smiles and sips her drink before dragging Emil to the dance floor to join the rest of the writhing bodies.

I slink down the stairs to the second floor and over to our usual booth located in the private section off to the side of the dance floor. A server immediately comes over and I order a whiskey even though I had already had a glass at that ritzy restaurant Emil had made reservations at.

Nadia and Emil are directly in my line of sight. She's got a bit of liquid courage in her and she seems more loose and relaxed, pressing closer to Emil who welcomes her proximity.

I still when Emil looks up and locks eyes with me across the club. It was possible he wasn't even looking in my direction, it was dark and the lights did play games with your eyes but I swear he was staring right at me. My theory is proven correct when a malicious grin spans his face, an eerie buzz sounds in my ears and I cock my head to the side in challenge.

Nadia runs her fingers down his chest and he takes that as permission to splay his palms on her lower back before daring to go lower and palming her ass. I jerk up from the booth, my vision suddenly blurry from some unfamiliar rage. I needed to get the fuck out of here before I killed this motherfucker.

I dart past the bar and up the stairs to the first level headed towards the bathrooms. I shoulder past the line, met with huffs and protests from the people behind me but I don't give a fuck.

"Out!" I yell, flashing my gun. Two guys pissing in the urinal quickly jerk their pants up and scatter out of the door. I go over to the sink and splash cold water on my face, trying to cool myself down.