Page 64 of Riding Hard

Rustik grunts. “What about a flat fee for each payment we collect?”

Dare dips his chin in agreement, but I can’t help but wonder why and how this is so fucking easy. Because how in the fuck did we just do business with the goddamn Perov Bratva, and all we did was go back and forth a couple times about money, and boom, we’re in business together?

I don’t know if I trust this.

“And before the paperwork is drawn up, I want you to know that we are aware that you’ve married Chassis Adams.”

And there it is.

Fuck.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-TWO

JULIETTE

My gut instincts were correct, unfortunately. Victor stands in front of me, a gun in his hand, a smile on his face. He thinks he’s somehow got the upper hand on me, and maybe he has. I mean, he’s in my brand-new condo, he’s holding me at gunpoint, but he doesn’t have Cade, and that means I’ve bested him at least in something.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“You know what I want. Take your clothes off, baby.”

I hate him.

Down to my bones, I hate this man.

“I’m not taking my clothes off,” I state.

He makes a tsking sound, tilting his head to the side, his eyes focused on mine and looking nowhere else. God, I wish I could reach out and slap him across the face. As much as I want to do that, I know he’s got a gun, and I highly doubt he’s afraid to use it.

“I think you are,” he murmurs. “Because it’s what I want, and I’ve got a gun. Don’t act like you’re a prude now, baby.”

I hate the way he calls me baby. Hate. It. Clenching my teeth, gnashing them back and forth, I ball my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms. Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him, waiting for what he’s going to do next.

If he thinks I’m going to get naked for him, he’s going to have to make me. Because I am not doing anything for, to, or with him ever again.

“You sure have no problem getting naked for your new man, and here you are, standing in front of me, refusing. What the fuck?” he demands.

Pressing my lips together, I refuse to answer him. All Victor wants is to control me. But I fucking refuse to give him what he wants. Not anymore. I did that for years. And never again. I’m not scared of him anymore.

“I love him, and I don’t love you. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Take your fucking clothes off, or you’ll never see him again.”

I need to stall. Though I’m not sure why it would matter. Literally nobody knows where I am right now. I open my mouth to ask him why he wants me naked, because I am not going to willingly do anything with him.

But I don’t get the chance to ask anything, to stall for even a minute longer, because Victor quickly closes the distance between us, and I feel the cool barrel of the gun press against the middle of my forehead.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” he screams.

Spittle flies from his mouth. I tremble. The rage radiates off him in waves. I can feel it soak into me. Closing my eyes slowly, I inhale through my nose, hold my breath, and let it out of my mouth slowly.

When I open my eyes, I look directly into his. Lifting my chin slightly, I look down my nose at him. I fucking hate this piece of shit, but right now, I don’t think I can do anything except what he demands.

“Unless you want me to get the kid, bring him here, and have him watch what I do to you, I would start taking your fucking clothes off.”

Cade.