A Monster Who Loved Me: The Complete Dark Billionaire Romance Duet by V.F. Mason

Author:V.F. Mason [Mason, V.F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-06T23:00:00+00:00

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Dominic

The massive brown, wooden door in the middle of the office opened, and Michael entered first, followed by three American men, two older ones and one around my age. I motioned with my hand for them to sit on the chair—I needed to know who was in charge among them. One of them came forward with a dry smile and sat down comfortably on the leather chair. He had thinning gray hair, a large build, wrinkled hands an aging face, and wore a brown suit. He reeked of money and sleaziness.

Lesha and Serega, the Bratva's byki—my bodyguards—stood on each side of me with crossed arms and practiced scowls. Already, the man was disrespectful by failing to greet me properly. Another older man joined him on the chair next to him and sneered at Michael. This one had shoulder-length bleach-dyed hair, pale skin, and a rather shiny complexion. He wore jeans and a shirt and sat with a relaxed posture. It seemed as though he thought everybody owed him something. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't quite catch what. Had I seen him before with Vasya? The hair on the back of my neck stood up as an unsettling feeling flashed through me.

Sixty seconds.

That was how long it took me to decide that any business with them would be impossible.

My gut never proved me wrong.

"Since when are gays hired by Bratva?" His voice made everything around me freeze, as an angry fog enclosed me, and all my attention focused on him.

The voice.

Take it like a good boy, toy.

Suck it harder.

Scream in pain, toy.

The voice of my nightmares.

The source of my humiliation and deepest pain.

Richard.

Most of the times when he requested me on his service, he wore a mask to enhance the whole master-slave play. On the rare occasions without it, I tried to block my mind from what he was doing to my body, so I barely focused on his face. The only things vivid in my mind about him were his striking, cold green eyes and a snarling smile. Right then, though, they were pitch-black, probably from lenses, but his voice was unmistakable. Somehow, he seemed more dangerous when I kneeled in front of him begging for mercy, but at that moment, only my self-control stopped me from taking out my gun and pulling the trigger right against his forehead.

Michael cleared his throat, snapping me back to reality. I realized everyone watched me—my guests with interest and my men with worry. The deep fury from within me must have shown in my face. There was no way to mask it. I knew everyone was ready to attack the newcomers, but I couldn't allow them to do it.

Not when my brother spent his whole life looking for them.

Not when Damian's revenge became my revenge.

Just like that, the rules of the game changed, and with it, my plan. However, I was the Pakhan, so his insult at my man wouldn't be tolerated.

"I suggest you choose your words wisely next time you address members of my brotherhood.

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