CHAPTER 7
NICHOLAI
She had no idea I could hear every word she said.
Every time she uttered my name, it turned me on.
I hated the fact that she’d found out I’d killed Eddie. I’d managed to keep that secret for ten years while I molded her into the woman I always wanted her to be. It wasn’t easy, either. She was an eighteen year-old, know-it-all brat who didn’t believe in herself at all until I built her up, until I showed her the potential she possessed.
And what thanks did I get?
Stood up at the fucking alter in front of all of Hollywood?
It was downright humiliating. Of course I’d have to make her pay for it. I couldn’t just let her get away with treating me that way, could I? Of course not.
So, I keep tabs on her.
She doesn’t need to know.
Long before the wedding, I’d inserted cameras in places she never would have imagined. Like right now, the little device that I’d sewn into the outer pocket of her favorite purse was giving me a perfect view of what I really didn’t want to see.
She fucked that guy.
More than once, in fact.
Like a goddamned hussy.
I was ashamed for her, to be honest. She was better than that. Picking up some filthy biker in a random bar like that? It was beneath her.
I’ve tried for years to show her how good she can be. All she had to do was marry me and we’d have been the ultimate power couple.
But no.
It didn’t work that way. She found out I killed Eddie. I should have gotten rid of that fucking wallet, but I kept it. I don’t even know why. Just to remind myself of just how much I’d sacrificed for her, maybe.
And now what does she do? Does she see all I’ve done? Does she thank me? Nope. She left me, humiliated me, and more than all of that — she’s angered me.
She doesn’t know what she’s in for.
I’m just playing with her now, but now that she’s decided slutting it up and going slumming like a sleazy whore is going to make her feel better, I’m going to have to take drastic action to make sure she gets in line.
Look, maybe I shouldn’t have killed Eddie, but in the end, even that proved to be in her favor. Do you think she’d be who she is if she’d had some clingy boyfriend following her around like a puppy dog all these years?
No fucking way.
She’s a sex symbol, for fuck’s sake.
And you know what else she is? After all this time? After all this fucking energy I’ve put into her over the years?
She’s fucking mine.
And that greasy tattooed biker may be fucking her, but that doesn’t change a thing.
Her career is mine.
Her fucking money is mine.
Her flesh is mine.
And if and when I see fit to take her out of this world, well that’ll be my decision to make and nobody else’s, too.
If the pretty boy in the leather vest thinks he’s going to keep me from what’s rightfully mine, well, he better think again.
I’ve killed before.
I’ll go to whatever extreme is necessary to claim what’s mine.
There’s nothing I won’t do.
Will pretty boy take a bullet for her? A woman he just met?
I highly doubt it.
Nobody is as committed to Lucky as me.
I’ll show them all just how serious I am about keeping her.