Midnight Oath (Tasarov Bratva 1)

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks.

His voice is suddenly solemn and serious. I feel like a little girl getting called into the principal’s office.

I remember what those women said earlier: Those Tasarovs, they’re… connected. The look in this man’s eyes says he knows violence on intimate terms.

It feels like he must know my thoughts before even I do. So I tell him the truth.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Every word.”

He lifts his chin and twirls me back into the dance, slipping into the music like we never stopped. “Then don’t apologize. Never apologize for telling the truth.”

“Okay,” I say, slowly gathering my courage. “Can I tell you another truth, then?”

He smirks. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m not sure my poor, fragile ego can handle it.”

“It’s not about you,” I say. “And if it was, it would be that you might be the only person here who could change my mind about the kinds of people at these parties.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he isn’t shoving me away, so I take it as a good sign.

“It’s about my… fiancé.” The word still tastes bitter in my mouth.

Right on cute, Malcolm dares to take a step forward onto the dancefloor. He’s glaring at me, the threat clear in his eyes.

Maybe it’s Adrik’s money or his “connections”… but Malcolm obviously doesn’t want me talking to him.

Which makes me want to cling to Adrik even more. For as long as I possibly can.

“Say whatever you’d like and don’t hold back,” Adrik says. “I’ve never been able to abide a bully. And Senator Waters is a bully on his best day.”

Malcolm takes another few steps closer, dodging the couples pirouetting in a big circle. I’m not sure what will happen when he gets here. The last thing I want is an altercation.

Not before I can figure out what I want.

Not before I have a plan.

I squeeze Adrik’s bicep, doing my best to ignore the obvious muscles rippling underneath his suit. I need to keep a clear head for what’s to come next.

“Do you think we could talk… somewhere more private?”

Adrik spins me out and back again, pressing me to his chest. A rough hand glides up my spine. He smells rich and sweet and minty.

On second thought, a clear head might no longer be in the cards for me.

Then he pivots to my side and offers his elbow. “As you wish. Come with me.”

Malcolm is only a few couples away now, still picking his way across the dance floor. With no time to spare, I slide my hand in the crook of Adrik’s arm and let him lead me out of the ballroom.

I’ve made my jump now and there’s no going back.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.