You Don't Own Me (The Russian Don 1)

He frowns. ‘You’re early. Wait in the White Room for Boss. He’ll be about fifteen minutes.’

‘OK,’ I say easily.

He nods and disappears down the corridor towards the kitchen.

I head towards the living room, open the door and peek inside. It’s empty. I close the door and move towards the music station. I press play and classical music fills the room. I have never really listened to classical music, but this piece is really beautiful and I’m standing there listening to it when the door opens and a man enters. He’s quite tall, very pale and probably in his forties. He is wearing a sharp suit.

‘Oh,’ he says when he sees me. He seems surprised. ‘I’m sorry. I’m looking for Zane. I was told he’d be here.’ His accent is from the rough end of London and there is something mean in his lean face, but his tone is polite.

‘He’ll be down soon,’ I say.

He shifts uncomfortably. ‘Maybe I should wait outside.’

‘It’s OK. You can wait here,’ I say. I’m not one to quickly judge people, although I have to be honest, I don’t like him one bit. There is something about him that makes my skin crawl.

He grins suddenly, a smarmy, sly lift to his lips. ‘Are you Zane’s new … girl?’

There are a multitude of insults in that slight pause. I straighten my spine. God, sometimes you try to be nice to someone and they fucking stab you in the head.

I’m saved from answering by the door being thrown open. Zane is standing in the doorway. He seems massive compared to his guest and his body language is like nothing I have ever seen. His eyes are like sparks in his thunderous face and his scar looks livid. He is not looking at me. His entire attention is on the man who entered the room.

‘What the fuck are you doing here, Lenny?’ he rasps.

The man seems to have been caught off guard. For a few seconds he stares silently at Zane then the man who seemed so sly and knowing only moments ago goes on the defensive. At that moment I know who the lion in this jungle is.

‘Noah asked me to come in here and wait for you,’ he blurts out.

Zane strides into the room. ‘Next time you come into a room and you see her, you turn around immediately and fucking walk out, do you understand?’

‘I understand. I’m really sorry. I’m out of line, but it was an honest mistake. I didn’t do nothing, anyway. I just said hello, you know, to be polite to your lady. I’m sorry, OK,’ Lenny says, slippery and so obviously disingenuous.

I know I’ve gone completely still with shock at the pure aggression in Zane, but I am also aware that Lenny is not to blame. Even though I don’t like him, and right now he looks like a wriggling, slimy worm, it is not his fault. I asked him to stay. Besides, it occurs to me too that I’m probably in the wrong room. I assumed this was the white room because I met Molly here and I’d been told to wait in the same room.

‘It’s my fault,’ I say, hoping to change the air of menace in the room. ‘I told him he could wait for you here.’

Zane turns his eyes on me and they are blazing with fury. ‘Who the fuck gave you permission to talk?’ he snarls.

I take an involuntary step back. I have never been spoken to like that by anybody. My first reaction is one of pure fury. A kind I have never experienced before. I am so livid with him I start trembling.

‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ Lenny mumbles, and slips out of the door as fast as his legs will carry him.

As soon as we are alone I lose my shit. This, as far as I am concerned, is the last straw. I’m out of here. I’ve had enough. I didn’t sign up for this bullshit. The deal was he doesn’t do anything I don’t like, or the deal is off. He just did something I detest. I absolutely will not allow him or any other man to talk to me like that. No matter how hungry my body is for him, I simply won’t allow such abuse. Maybe I’m not built to be someone’s sex toy. I’m too independent and free-spirited to be anybody else’s sidekick. He can go find himself another pliable sex toy to bully.

‘You’re an arrogant bastard, Zane. How dare you speak to me like that in front of other people?’ I fume, striding towards the door.

He stands in my way, magnificent and menacing. ‘I’ll speak to you how I like. I own you.’

I gasp. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you. You don’t own me.’

‘Yes, I fucking do,’ he snarls. His arm shoots out and he yanks me to him.