Chapter 81: Chapter Twenty-Six

Alice

The thing about finally being given freedom, you actually want to start to take it.

Freedom is like waking up from a long nap—you stretch your arms, then your legs, and suddenly you realize you can actually get out of bed, so you stand, and then you walk, and then you run.

Despite his millions of faults.

He’d given me that, a gift.

It hit me when I was standing in my closet trying to pick from the hundreds of dresses he’d purchased for me, for no other reason than he was intrigued.

I wasn’t going to dive into what that meant.

I was just going to be thankful that I wasn’t locked in a room on a Wednesday night.

And that I was going to be able to wear a pretty dress.

Well, that, and the fact that he hadn’t said no.

I wasn’t sure what had shifted.

He was still scary as hell, and he still made me want to back away and hide against the nearest sturdy structure, but something in the way he looked at me now, like maybe he trusted me?

Whatever it was.

I was going with it.

It had taken my father years to destroy my trust.

It had taken Andrei Petrov two days to earn it.

There was something extraordinarily scary about a man who could take someone so broken, terrified, and bruised, and make her want to put on a dress and heels.

He was something monstrous.

And something beautiful.

All wrapped up in one.

I thought about his outfit.

Leather and red.

Why not match?

It would either piss him off or make him laugh. I was hoping I would earn another one of his rare laughs or french fry shows.

I picked up a pair of tall red heels that tied all the way up to my knee and managed to zip my dress by myself.

It fit snug.

I did a twirl in the mirror—the length was mid-thigh, a bit short, but I could work with it.

I couldn’t, however, wear a bra.

The small pieces of black fabric covered a small area of chest and the lace did the rest, running down my arms in tightly fitted sleeves.

The white collar stood out—I decided I liked it. A lot.

I made my way into the bathroom and stared at the makeup that he’d purchased.

Something about putting too much on just didn’t sit well with me. Was I getting dressed for him or me?

I put my hair up in a high ponytail, the edges of my hair grazed mid-shoulders, making the look a bit mod.

I decided to go understated the whole way: a bit of foundation, no shadow, and dark eyeliner with mascara.

“Well, into the lion’s den,” I whispered to myself as I rushed back into the closet in search of a purse.

And a bit sick.

He hadn’t made me his whore.

But there was something very Pretty Woman about my situation.

I chose not to focus on the things.

And shoved my phone into the black beaded clutch and told myself to be brave, not make eye contact, and make sure everyone knew who I belonged to.

Even if the thought of being owned by anyone made me sick.

His club. His rules.

Tonight, I was Andrei Petrov’s.

All his.

I chanted this in my head the entire way down the dimly lit hall, and then finally at the already open door to the club.

I hesitated a minute. Was the dress for me or him? For both of us? To prove I wasn’t broken? I was suddenly more nervous than I’d ever been in my entire life. I ducked my head in.

Rap music pounded through the speakers so loud I was amazed clothes weren’t coming off.

There were at least a few hundred people there already, and it was only ten.

I knew he’d be in the VIP section, but I wasn’t sure how to exactly get there without…

“Alice,” a voice said to my right. “Let me take you to him.” Ax held out his elbow and gave me a warm smile.

A searing blush flooded my face as I took his arm and tried to tuck my hair, then realized it was in a ponytail. “Thanks.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” He grinned wider. “So glad I’m on shift tonight.”

I laughed a bit. “Me too, otherwise I would have been lost.”

“Nobody gets lost in this club,” he said pointedly. “Cameras everywhere.”

“What about the apartments?”

Ax didn’t even blink. “Those are his private residence. No cameras anywhere in that place, boss’s orders.”

“Hmm.”

“Good information, yes?” He winked.

“Oh no, it’s not, it’s not like that, not even a little bit it’s not—”

“Yeah okay, sure.” He shrugged as we walked up about a dozen stairs and into the VIP section with table service and couches.

It wasn’t very full yet, the section. When we rounded the corner, I had no time to prepare myself for the wives.

I was attacked.

With perfume, smiles, hugs.

From each and every one of them.

Trace was first. “That dress!”

Mo groaned. “I used to look sexy.”

“She’s pregnant,” Bee pointed out, air kissing each of my cheeks. “She feels fat.”

The woman looked like a freaking supermodel. “Uh, how far along?”

“Six months.” Mo made a face. “Water for the win.” She held up a water bottle. I smiled.

El was next on the hugging, Dante’s wife. “You’re stunning.”

“Oh.” I pressed a hand to my stomach while Val gave me a knowing look. “Thank you. I’m so glad you guys all came.”

“You kidding?” Val laughed. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Same,” the girls all said in unison while I tried not to laugh. What did they think was gonna happen anyway?

I noticed his boots first, the red sticking out from the main couch, his legs spread like he owned the place, which I guess he did technically.

He looked like a Russian king.

A Czar.

Regal.

I sucked in a breath as he seemed to actually laugh at something Chase said, and then his head moved.

The wives, no joke, took one giant step away from me.

His smile fell.

Crap.

I should have chosen a different dress, worn more makeup, done something, anything.

His face looked like granite as his eyes lazily raked over me. Tex started choking on something while Chase whacked him in the back.

The only one not grinning from ear to ear in my direction was Andrei.

I almost turned and ran.

Almost.

Andrei finally lifted his hand and crooked one finger at me.

Great, now I was being summoned.

Punished.

The air suddenly felt smoky, choking as I took a step and then another. He didn’t even blink, his ice-cold eyes locked on mine like a tractor beam, and so I walked.

It felt like the entire club was watching him, waiting for his next decision. I kept the tremble from my body, barely, as his eyes slowly moved from my face down my chest, my hips, and then my shoes.

His leg was shaking like he was tapping his foot.

His eyes flashed.

And then his hands were on my hips, pulling me onto his lap. The dress was too tight, so I collapsed against his chest, my legs dangling over the side of his.

And then his lips were on my neck, sliding up until he said with deathly calm in my ear. “I like your dress.”

I licked my lips. “Thank you.”

His hands didn’t move from my hips.

Wait.

No.

What was I thinking?

I couldn’t.

Not with him.

Not ever.

What happened to not being attracted to powerful hurtful men?

And why was I still sitting on his lap like it was Christmas? I moved my hips against him and settled in more comfortably.

He flinched and then shot me a glare as a waitress dressed in a slinky red cocktail dress brought us all a round of shots.

Vodka, of course.

“Ypa,” He handed me a shot and then clinked his glass against mine while everyone else raised theirs with laughter, like they weren’t natural born killers.

Even the women.

A flash of a knife showed against Mo’s thigh. She took a drink of water and winked.

Right.

“Ypa.” I repeated and downed my shot.

I’d need a lot more than one vodka shot to survive that night, wouldn’t I?

Thankfully, the waitress returned, this time with drinks, some wine, whiskey, a few Moscow mules that looked like heaven, and more shots.

Andrei immediately took the shot. I suddenly had this insane need to know how much vodka he could down while playing darts and attempting to hit a bullseye, and then felt stupid for being curious.

“So.” Tex stood and faced us, wrapping an arm around Mo. His mere presence was imposing, like he was too big for the room, knew it, and used it to his advantage.

His dark reddish hair seemed to glisten underneath the pulsing lights. “Are we celebrating tonight?”

“Celebrating?” Andrei narrowed his eyes and then stared at the empty shot glasses like there wasn’t enough alcohol in his system yet.

“Yeah.” Tex grinned and lifted his drink to his smirking mouth. “Your marriage, of course.”

I could have sworn Andrei choked on the shot as it went down, and then he winked at Tex. “Oh, we’ve already been celebrating, you weren’t invited.”

“Trust me, the very last thing I want to see is you trying to find your prick and win a prize when you find the right—oomph.”

Mo smacked him in the chest. “So, this is exciting, right?

I had to freaking lie.

Because I couldn’t tell her the real reason.

No, that seemed like a great way to get killed in this really pretty dress and end up buried in it.

“Come on.” Trace reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s go dance, and we want details…” She peeked over my shoulder to Andrei.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing special.” I gulped, still within earshot of Andrei. “I mean, nothing different from all his other girlfriends.”

The guys silenced.

The girls shared obvious looks of intense curiosity.

And then Trace looped her arm in mine and said loudly, “Andrei doesn’t have girlfriends. In fact, you’re the first girl he’s ever brought to family dinner, let alone, to hang out.”

I stole a glance at Andrei.

His expression was unreadable.

But he did reach for another shot.

And when I looked down.

His foot moved.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.