In a heartbeat, he reaches for my mask, openhanded, as if he’s about to suffocate me.
I don’t think as I push his palm at the last second and it ends up on my breast.
My chest heaves and the weight of his hand on my breast makes it worse.
Instead of backing off, a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips and he squeezes the flesh over my dress. “So this whole charade was an invitation? You girls sure come up with the most creative ways to get my attention. Are you up for it here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting fucked senseless like a dirty, dirty girl?”
For a moment, I’m stunned into silence. Partly because no one’s talked to me like that in the past.
No one’s dared to.
I’m Mia Sokolov. The daughter of Kyle Hunter and Rai Sokolov. If anyone ever dared touch me and say those words to me, I would punch them to another planet. My parents would find them and have their balls for breakfast.
Don’t even get me started on my brother. He’d resurrect them and slaughter them all over again.
In my stupefaction, his hand slides down my hip and over my ass cheek before he squeezes it and slams me against his front.
A wordless gasp falls from my lips as my stomach rubs against his semi-hard erection.
My temperature rises with pure fucking rage.
How dare he…? How fucking…
I don’t think about it as I try to lift my knee and kick him in the balls.
Before I can do that, however, he tightens his grip on my ass, giving me no wiggle room whatsoever.
“Easy there, mouse. While I’m rather open to wrestling, I’m not sure you can take me on.”
I’m going to take you to meet your fucking maker, asshole.
I attempt to slip sideways, but it’s impossible to get rid of his fingers that are digging into my ass.
“You’re a silent little thing.” He grabs my other ass cheek with the hand he’s holding his mask in. “You did your research, didn’t you? I love them mute.”
That’s it.
I rein in my temper and let my body relax in his hold, willingly turning molten in his arms.
Then I lift a hand and stroke my index finger down his cheek to his jaw, slowly, flirtatiously.
His smirk widens and he doesn’t seem to mind the touch.
That’s it, psycho. Let your dick lead you like every other idiot.
I pull on his bottom lip, trying my best not to focus on the way he’s taking the liberty of grabbing me.
He thinks I’m seducing him, but I’m just erasing that damn smirk so he’ll stop looking like Lucifer’s lost heir.
He strokes my ass and I resist the tingles that explode down my spine. I get on my tiptoes so that my mask-covered face is a few inches from his and then I punch him.
In the nose.
As hard as I can.
Damn. That hurts!
The motion is sudden enough that he freezes.
I use the surprise element to push against him, release myself, and run out the door.
Despite being disoriented and hot from the bastard’s touch, I don’t stop to look behind me. Not even for a second.
In fact, I run as fast as I can in case he’s following me.
Even though I don’t detect any steps, I don’t let my guard down and keep running until I reach the control panel.
My heart nearly jumps from my throat, but I breathe deeply and push the button. I have no doubt that Maya succeeded.
Just as I expected, the timer goes on.
I go back through the garden—my plan B. There’s no way in hell I’m returning to that bathroom, where Landon can ambush me again.
Note to self: Never be alone with the bastard.
He’s a damn pervert, and a persistent one at that.
It takes me longer to return to the main hall, but I arrive at the back of the partygoers just in time.
After I join Maya, she signs, “What the hell took you so long? I was getting worried.”
“A small complication, but don’t worry, it was absolutely nothing.”
I don’t believe my words, even as I sign them.
That definitely wasn’t nothing. It was everything but nothing. My body still tingles with both frustration and rage.
“What do you mean there was a complication?” Maya hisses under her breath. “What happened?”
I place a finger to my mouth when none other than Landon walks to the stage and taps his glass of champagne with a spoon.
Just in time.
He’s wearing his mask, but it doesn’t matter. After our encounter just now, I’ve developed the useless power to recognize the asshole from a mile away.
“Thank you for coming to our party,” he starts in his suave, elegant voice that could be mistaken for a politician’s.
That gorgeous British accent is lost on him. Just saying.
“We’re delighted to open the Elites’ doors for the people we consider VIPs. Tonight, we’re going to have a personal meet and greet with yours truly, the man and the legend, Landon King.”
Barf.
“He sounds and looks edible,” Maya signs. “Too bad he’s a dick.”
“What’s taking so long?” I sign back as the crowd goes wild for the potential future cult leader.
Did I somehow not click the right button in my haste? I was temporarily out of my mind after the bastard touched what he had no business touching.
No, I’m sure I did…
He raises his glass. “To the Elites.”
“To the Elites,” everyone else echoes.
Just then, the gates of hell open and pour right on top of him. Pig blood bathes Landon and his glass of champagne in an instant, turning him into a messy goo of ugliness right in front of the people who worship at his feet.
A collective gasp overtakes the crowd. I laugh behind my mask.
Take that, prick. You’ll learn not to mess with me or my family ever again.
People and security rush to the stage, and Maya tugs on my hand. “Time to go.”
I chance one last look behind me just to see the asshole looking like a fool, but he’s already removed the mask and his eyes meet mine.
A wide grin lifts his lips, looking even more terrifying when he’s covered in all the blood.
He does the universal ‘I’m watching you’ sign, and I don’t know why I run the fastest I ever have.
3
MIA
“You didn’t answer me.” Nikolai’s voice booms in the room as he nudges me with a foot.
I lose balance, but I go back into position and don’t open my eyes.
Anyone with any form of common sense would leave me to meditate in peace, but my brother and common sense have been fighting each other for his entire life.
He pushes me again, and this time, I fall to my ass and start to glare up at him, but I startle when I find him in my face.
Literally.
He’s leaning so low, the bent position appears creepy at worst and awkward at best.
My brother is a year older than Maya and me, but he couldn’t look any different. Where we take after our mom and her identical twin sister, he takes after Dad. They share the chameleon eye shade of turquoise blue, some of the same body structure, and dark hair—though my brother wears his long.
It's currently tied in a low ponytail at his nape, which highlights his unwelcoming, grim face. I love my brother, and he’s actually handsome, but you have to look past his usual manic expression to see that.
Also, he’s shirtless ninety percent of the time—now included. And that puts all his hedonistic, scary tattoos on display for the world to see.
Add the fact that he’s quite buff, and you have the perfect recipe for a disaster waiting to happen.
It doesn’t help that he was brought up as the mafia heir for my parents’ positions in the New York Bratva.
At times, he’s like a psycho with a license to beat, maim, and even kill. Other times, he’s just my brother who used to take me and Maya for ice cream and defend us in front of a deadly stray dog.
“I’m still waiting for an answer,” he repeats his earlier words.
I can’t help glancing at the bandage covering the base of his neck.
That’s the reason I bathed that asshole Landon in pig blood a few days ago, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.