Tarnished Tyrant - A Mafia Romance

Chapter 62 Episode 62

I shiver involuntarily and suddenly realize how cold I am.“Why is it so cold in here?”

“Oh.” Arslan reaches for the air conditioner. “You had a slighttemperature spike when they took you off the plane. Nikolaiwanted to make sure you were cool.”

“Well, now, I’m freezing. Turn the heat up. Please.”

Arslan hesitates before reaching for the air again. “Fine. A bit.But like I said twice now, Nikolai is worried about you. He’son edge. I’m not throwing myself into the fire for you oranyone.”

“So you just do whatever he says? You blindly follow hisorders?”

He smirks. “Is this one of those ‘If Nikolai walked off a cliff,would you follow’ kind of questions?”

Arslan doesn’t even think about it. “Yes. Absolutely.”

When his eyes meet mine in the mirror this time, all signs ofhumor are gone. He really is deadly serious. “Because I’venever known Nikolai to do something without a damn goodreason. Which is the only reason I’m risking bringing theentire wrath of the Greek mafia down on me by transportinghis secret pregnant mistress to his house. Because, despite itall, I trust him.”

“I wish I had your trust,” I grumble. “And we don’t know I’mpregnant yet.”

“That’s another thing,” Arslan says. “I’ve known him myentire life. We grew up together in the inner circle of hell andfought for the Bratva side by side for years. He’s neverwrong.”

My stomach twists with nausea. I fold my arms around mymidsection like that’ll make all this go away.

Except I can’t quite bring myself to wish I wasn’t pregnant.Even as I’m thinking about how difficult it all will be, there’s aflutter of excitement in my chest. The looming anvil that hungover my head everyday before I set out to start my shift atTony’s is gone.

“If you want my advice…” Arslan starts.

He carries on anyway. “Trust him. Even if you don’t feel it yet,trust him. He’ll earn it.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I’ll stick to hating him instead.”

He guffaws at that. “You don’t hate him.”

“How the hell would you know?”

He catches my eye in the mirror again, one eyebrow raised.“Because sometimes, I’m right about things, too. And I knowwhat hate looks like. This thing between you and Nikolai?That ain’t it, sweetheart.”

The jerky car ride and Arslan’s bargain-brand therapy sessionis making me nauseous, so I lean my head back and try torelax. Eventually, I’ll try to fight my way out and get myselfand Elise out of here.

But right now, there’s nothing to do but wait.

I watch through the front window as Belle climbs out of thecar and runs to Elise. She wraps her baby sister in a hug likeshe thought she’d never see her again.

As if I’d do something to hurt an innocent little girl.

“Are you okay?” Belle asks, running her hands over Elise’shair.

I can read Belle’s lips, but Elise is facing away from me. Fromthe way she waves her sister off, I’d guess she’s telling her allabout how nice the private plane was and that she’s alreadybeen settled into a guest bedroom so nice it blows the suite inIceland out of the water.

Still, Belle pulls her in for another long, desperate hug. Sheburies her face in her sister’s strawberry blonde hair as if it’sthe last time.

After another minute, I step away from the window and leanagainst the front doorjamb. From here, I can hear Belleperfectly.

“I’m so sorry. This has all been such a mess. I can’t believe Idragged you into… whatever this is. You should be at home,not traipsing all over—”

“I like traipsing,” Elise says. “Besides, traveling is a kind ofeducation, isn’t it?”

Belle arches a brow. “That sounds like something Nikolaiwould say.”

At the sound of my voice, Belle snaps her attention to thehouse. Her entire body goes rigid. I spend a second admiringeach curve. Memorizing her, savoring her.

Then her top lip curls in a sneer.

I shake my head and say softly, “You don’t want to have thisconversation here.”

I jerk my chin towards her sister as a reminder. “Sure aboutthat?”

Realization flickers across Belle’s face. It obscures the rage fora second—then it’s back with a vengeance. She opens hermouth again, but before she can say anything, I grab her armand drag her through the front door.

“Hey!” she shouts. “Get off me!”

I ignore her and haul her down the hallway, even while shetries to dig her heels into the wood floors.

I turn towards a door to the right. I sense the moment her rageturns to panic. Her muscles tighten, and she whimpers.

“Don’t… don’t lock me up.”

I open the door and shove her inside before following her inand closing the door behind us.

Belle looks around, blinking. “You’re locking me in alibrary?”

“I’m talking to you in a library,” I correct. “If the talk goespoorly, we’ll circle back to locking you up.”

For a few seconds, she’s mesmerized by the floor-to-ceilingshelves that ring the room. Each one is loaded down withbooks, thousands of them.

When she looks back at me, it’s like blinking back into reality.Cold, hard reality. The wonder fades from her face.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is that all it takes? Iannoy you and you sedate me?”

“If that were true, you would have been sedated from themoment we met.”

Her hazel eyes are mostly green now. They’re practicallynuclear with fury. “You don’t get to control my life. I’m not inyour Bratva. I’m not… I’m not Arslan.”

I’m so surprised that I snort out a laugh. “Thank f**k for that.You’d be a terrible second-in-command.”

She crosses her arms and steps towards me. “I’m not asuseless as you seem to think I am.”

“Debatable,” I snap. “We spend all of our time either fightingor fucking.”

Her pouty mouth falls open. I watch the flush creep over herchest and into her cheeks.

“That’s not true,” she whispers.

I close the distance between us in a single stride. “That’s whatwe do, Belle. We fight and we f**k and then we do it all overagain. Often at the same time.”

“Only because you never stop arguing,” she snaps. “Ever!”

“Says the woman who doesn’t even want to be here, but is stillbickering about her imaginary place in the Bratva hierarchyanyway.”

Belle’s cheeks go red. “I’m only here because you druggedand kidnapped me. If you’re tired of me, then send me backhome.”

“So you can starve yourself? Or pass out and tumble down thestairs? Or get attacked in an alley by your former boss?” Ishake my head. “No, princess, I think I’ll keep you here.”

Belle grabs a fistful of my shirt and tries to bring me down toher level, but I don’t budge. Huffing, she stretches up onto her

tiptoes. “You aren’t responsible for me. I’ve taken care ofmyself my whole life. I never had anyone looking out for me.”

“The reason you’re so bad at recognizing when someone istaking care of you. Because no one has ever done it before.”

Her jaw is set, her eyes narrowed up at me. “Is that whatyou’re doing?”

I shake my head. “I’ve never met anyone more stubborn in mylife.”

“Oh, really? Have you met you?” She’s not smiling, butthere’s amusement in her eyes.

Slowly, her fist unclenches. Her hand flattens on my chest andshe lets loose a long sigh. “I’m tired of fighting, Nikolai.”

“Glad to hear it.” In one sweeping motion, I scoop her into myarms and press her back against the bookshelves. “Time forfucking, then.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but I catch her lipswith mine. Instantly, she softens in my arms. After a momentof struggle, she kisses me back and arches her body into me.

Still, there’s remnants of the anger there. She claws at myshoulders and digs into my back with the heels of her feet. It’slovemaking with violence seeping into the edges.

I slide my mouth along her jaw and down her neck. I can feelthe pounding of her pulse against my lips.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she pants, scraping herfingernails down my neck.

I reach between us to undo her jeans. “I never apologized,” Iremind her, sliding my hand beneath the soft material of herpanties. I arch a brow. “And apparently, I don’t need to. You’realready soaked.”

“Shut up,” she says just before she grabs my face with bothhands and kisses me again.

She slips her tongue in my mouth as I slide a finger into her.She clenches and then relaxes as she adjusts to me. When Idrag my thumb up to circle her c**t, she rips her mouth awayand gasps.

“See how good it can be?” I whisper, adding a second finger toher warm heat. “You and me…”

I curl my fingers inside of her. It’s a miracle to watch her melt.To witness the stubborn, reckless little brat give herself over tomy hands.

“Forget her,” I say. “She’s done. It’s over.”

Belle’s eyes snap open. “What do you mean?”

“It’s over,” I repeat. “The wedding is off.”