He’d been part of the security team for so long that she guessed transferring to a more admin position had been an adjustment for the former Marine.
Keeping her fake smile in place she nodded at Ivanov and motioned toward the elevators. “So what would you like to know about Red Stone?” Ugh. She hoped he wasn’t looking to hire the company. Though she wasn’t sure they’d even take him on. Porter’s dad, the founder, had an intense vetting process, even for their clients. He didn’t take on known criminals, no matter how much money they had.
“How long have you worked for them?”
She cleared her throat as she stepped through the open elevator doors. “About five months.”
“You were with Porter’s cousin on Friday night.” It wasn’t a question and no doubt he’d seen her on the video.
She cringed at the thought of her boss seeing her out dancing on that video. She hadn’t been drunk or doing anything stupid, but still, it felt a little weird. If she’d known that Ivanov had owned the club she’d gone to with her friends, she’d have never gone. At least he’d been willing to give Porter the video feed in an effort to find out who’d tried to take Raegan.
“Yes.” The elevator started moving moments after the doors closed. She stood next to him, trying to ignore his presence. It was hard, considering what a giant the male was. He was crowding into her space without even trying. His cologne was light and she hated that he smelled good. If he was anyone else she might have even…checked him out. Which just annoyed her even more.
“I’m sorry your friend was drugged. I’ve already fired the security staff from that night.”
Surprised ricocheted through her at his words and for the first time since getting in the elevator she looked over at him. “Seriously?”
He frowned, his gaze flickering to her mouth. “Why are you surprised?”
She lifted a shoulder, not liking what she saw in his icy blue eyes. She’d been on the receiving end of lust from males since she was fourteen. She could tell he liked what he saw when he looked at her and it pissed her off. When the elevator doors opened on the bottom floor she pushed out a sigh of relief, belatedly realizing her reaction was a little too obvious as they stepped out of it. “Did you have any questions about Red Stone?” Because she didn’t want to talk about herself or Friday night.
“Have we met before?” he asked. She could practically hear the frown in his voice, but didn’t meet his gaze as they crossed the main lobby.
Smiling, she nodded at two of the security men behind the huge circular reception area. She knew they were both armed to the teeth. “No.”
“Then what have I done to offend you?” he demanded softly.
Surprised by the bluntness of his question, she looked at him. He’d stopped walking so she did the same. “Why would you say that?” She wrapped her arms around herself.
His expression was hard, the angles of his face sharp and defined. He looked every inch the ruthless businessman everyone said he was. “Because of the way you looked at me Saturday night.”
Damn it. She was hoping he hadn’t remembered or even noticed her. She’d been unable to rein in her reaction to him though. She took a steadying breath. “If you do business with my boss it won’t be a problem. I’m a professional.” She didn’t want to be on Viktor Ivanov’s radar in any way, shape or form, but…
Staring into icy blue eyes so similar to his father’s, she was close to losing it. When she looked at Viktor, she saw blood and death, her lifeless mother in her tub. And it made her want to cry.
“Your family disgusts me,” she gritted out before turning on her heel. She couldn’t be around him any longer, couldn’t fake being polite. Though clearly she hadn’t done a good job of that anyway.
*
Viktor scrubbed a hand over his face as he read over the file his brother had given to him. It was very thorough. He couldn’t get rid of the image of Dominique’s almost scared expression when she’d looked at him. He was used to people being afraid of him.
But he’d hated that she’d looked at him like that. Which was stupid, since he didn’t even know her. Maybe it was because, more than fear, he’d seen raw pain in her gaze.
Now he knew why.
He closed his eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“You had nothing to do with it.” Abram’s voice was whiplash sharp. As always when he was annoyed.
“My family—our family—owes her a debt.” He looked up, sat back in his desk chair.