Page 35 of Owning Him
Julian takes a step nearer, the scent of his expensive cologne drifting over me. It does absolutely nothing to my body.
"Seriously, Val," he says. "What are you doing tonight?"
"I'm heading straight home after this, Julian."
He looks at the foot of empty space I’ve forced between us with confusion. "Alone?"
"I'm... kind of seeing someone."
In the five years we knew each other, I had an unbreakable rule against relationships. So I understand his confusion.
But Julian doesn't push.
"Wow," he mutters, nodding his head. "Okay. Good for you. He’s a lucky guy."
Julian extends his hand toward me. I reach out and slide my hand into his, shaking it. I’m glad that the end of us is just as respectful as the entirety of our relationship had been.
Julian gently turns my hand over. He bows his head slightly and presses a kiss to the back of my knuckles.
"You'll always know where to find me if you ever need anything, Val," he says. "Business or otherwise."
I offer him a tight smile as I pull my hand back, Viktor flashing through my mind. I know Marcus reports everything back to him; I just hope he won’t get the wrong idea.
Chapter Twenty-One
Viktor
Every few minutes, my phone buzzes in the pocket of my pants. It’s Marcus. I asked him to send me updates. From the very first photos of her socializing in that ballroom, it felt like fire ants crawled through my arteries. Every single man in that room had his eyes on her. They were circling like vultures, watching her in that red dress. There is a volcano erupting in my veins, threatening to burn away whatever restraint I have left and turn me into a monster.
But the photo that pushes me completely over the edge arrives thirty minutes later.
I stare at the screen, and my vision literally blurs with rage. Him. Some upper-class bastard has slid next to her on the terrace. The next photo shows the guy whispering in her ear. Then another—his hand is resting on the small of her back, handling her like they are old lovers. And finally, the last picture. The bastard is kissing her knuckles.
I am incinerating. Burning alive from the inside out.
I can’t finish this shift. Handing my radio off to one of the off-duty bouncers, I pull him aside to ask him to cover for me because it’s an emergency. He thankfully agrees.
I hail a cab, throwing a wad of cash at the driver to get me across the city to the gala. The entire ride, I do nothing but stare at the photos on my phone. They look so damn familiar. Who the hell is that man to her? How many times has he touched her like that before I ever entered the picture?
When the cab screeches to a halt near the venue, I don't even wait for my change. I slam the door and step into the shadows near the security line, my eyes scanning like a predator tracking prey.
A minute later, the doors swing open.
Marcus appears first, clearing a path through the paparazzi. Right behind him is Valentina. She doesn’t see me—too busy laughing with some woman I don’t recognize. But Marcus spots me instantly, noting the murderous tension dripping off me. He gives me a wink and hits the key fob, unlocking the SUV parked at the curb.
I slip into the back seat of the vehicle.
The moment I’m inside, I hit the switch to raise the privacy visor between the driver's compartment and the passenger cabin. I know Valentina has a public image to uphold. Nobody on the outside gets to see what our private time looks like. Nobody gets to see how she belongs to me.
Marcus opens the car door for Valentina. She slides into the leather seat, adjusting the train of her crimson gown. Just as she’s shutting the door, her eyes track across the cabin, finally sensing me.
She gasps, startled when she notices me waiting for her in the dark.
"Viktor?" she breathes, her hand flying to her chest. "What are you doing here? Your shift hasn't even ended."
"You expected me to stay on my shift when these photos showed up on my phone?" I hiss, yanking the phone from my pocket and thrusting the screen into her face.
She looks down at the screen, blinking at the images of the terrace. "Viktor, it's not what you think."
