“Funny. I’m also a man in need of a marriage. And I’m not sure if Denis Morozova wanted his daughters married to a little fucker like you.” Mikhail towers over Boris. It would make me laugh if I wasn’t so afraid right now. Being in a small room, naked, with Mikhail is making me woozy.
“Denis never said I couldn’t marry one of them. So, I’m choosing to marry Sofiya. You can't stop it, Mikhail. You may own all of Russia, but this is New York. You don’t belong here.”
Mikhail doesn’t yell or shout or even move. He just stares Boris down until Boris physically shrinks right before my eyes. “You are not marrying Sofiya. I am.” Mikhail’s voice is eerily calm. “She’s coming with me right now. And if you were smart, you wouldn’t try to stop us. Because if you do, you won’t like the outcome.”
“The outcome?” Boris barely gets the words out.
“Choose your pick.” He pats Boris on the arm, which makes Boris jump. “Now, leave the room. I don’t want to see your ugly fucking face anymore.”
Boris turns to me. “Remember, Sofiya. If you don’t marry me, I will go after Mila.”
I jerk. He’s right. “I have to marry him,” I say to Mikhail.
He walks right over to me, standing so close I can feel the heat from his body. I’m even more aware of my naked state. I press the dress tighter against me.
“You don’t have to marry him,” Mikhail tells me. “You will marry me.”
“Do I get a choice?”
“No.”
I believe him. A man like Mikhail does not take no for an answer, and that terrifies me. What will Mikhail do to me once we’re alone? I definitely don’t trust Boris, but I also don’t trust Mikhail. He could hurt me just as easily.
“What about my sister?” I ask through numb lips.
“I only want you. I don’t care about your sisters.” His bluntness makes me flinch. “You will be married to me, Sofiya. You will come with me to Russia.” I inhale deeply. “And what happens to your sisters is out of my control. It’s not your duty to take care of them. It’s Boris’s now. Your father entrusted him to care for them.”
“There’s nothing you can do about that? They can’t … come with us?”
“No,” he says again, crushing my heart. He turns to Boris. “Leave.”
Boris gives me one final look before walking out the door. Now, I’m alone with Mikhail, and I’m not even sure I can remain standing.
I stumble back, and Mikhail catches my arm. His touch is somehow both cool and hot at the same time. He lets his hand linger before removing it, but even once it’s gone, I can still feel his touch.
“Why do you want me?” I whisper.
He gently places his hand on my cheek. I just barely lean into him. “Because I do.” That’s the end of his explanation. I want to know more, but I don’t think Mikhail is a man you can convince to do anything he doesn’t want to do.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Now, I take you with me to Russia. There, we’ll be married. And there, we will spend our lives together.”
I gulp. “But New York is my home.”
“I don’t care. Russia will be your home now.” The way he’s so blunt hurts me.
But it also … excites me.
“I have to say goodbye to my sisters. Please. Give me that, at least.”
He nods. “I will. Your sister was probably taken to the nearest hospital to the theater. We’ll go there.”
That’s right—Vik broke her ankle. I can’t believe I’ll have to leave her while she’s in pain. And leave Mila, too, to fend for herself. Boris will set his sights on her, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Mikhail is an unmovable force. He wants me, so he’ll have me.
And then I remember my foot. “I need to get this looked at.” I lift my foot so he can see.
“How did that happen?” His anger surprises me. I didn’t think Mikhail cared about me, but the way he’s looking at me with concern shows maybe—just maybe—he has a softer side to him.
“I was running from Boris and stepped on some glass.”
“I’ll get you to the hospital. I don’t want you to get sick.”
I hold the dress tighter to my body. “I have to change first.”
He takes a look at the dress and scoffs. “You’re not wearing that monstrosity. I’ll buy you a dress to wear on the way there.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I’m … naked.” The word makes me flush, especially as Mikhail rakes his eyes over me. When other men do it, I feel nothing but disgust.
When Mikhail does it, I feel a mixture of arousal and fear. It’s a heady combination.
He grabs the dress and pulls it away, letting it drop to the floor. I instantly cover my breasts. Mikhail makes a disapproving sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t.” He gently but firmly grabs my arms and makes me lower them to my sides.
His fingers skim my waist. I gasp at his touch. Mikhail gazes down at me with a darkness in his eyes. It makes me want to lean in and see what he’ll do to me.
But I’m afraid.
No man has ever seen me naked, let alone touched me. Father never would have allowed it.
