Pavel
“I guess I’d better take you downstairs for a drink. You’re too beautiful to be hidden away although I’ll throat punch anyone who tries to talk to you.”
Kayla’s laugh is nervous, like she’s not sure if I’m joking.
I’m not.
I’m a jealous, possessive motherfucker. Strange for a guy who’s never had a girlfriend in his life.
But ever since the moment I broke her at Black Light, when Maxim, my bratva brother told me I own her now, I’ve been possessive as hell.
It’s irrational because the possibility of this working out longer than another five minutes is slim.
Kayla climbs off the bed and pulls on another sexy dress—a red one this time. “No panties,” I tell her when she starts to pull them on. She steps back out of them and smooths the skirt of her dress.
“Come on, beautiful.”
“M
