His eyes were fixed on mine, a little smirk formed on his lips.

He had to know that I know.

“You're Dimitri?” I whispered the question.

“You wouldn't know,” he smiled, showing me his perfectly arranged set of teeth. “You look pretty.”

Of course I do. I always do.

But…

“Follow me,” I managed to say without stuttering.

He only nodded and followed. I led the way to my room and locked the door once we were both in.

I took deep breaths and unboxed my gift, my back turned against Dimitri.

Please let it be what I think it is, I prayed silently.

I smirked as I stared down at the content of the gift box. Uncle Viktor had promised me a customized gun years ago once I became a full adult and he delivered on his promise.

When you grow up in a family like mine, you learn how to handle dangerous weapons like this at a very young age.

I could shoot a moving target when I was seven. I handled knives professionally around that age too and my dad personally taught me everything I know, including how to fight.

I never wanted to live as my father wanted, but I had no choice. The truth is, whether I liked the lifestyle or not, I am a Petrov and would always be a target in the outside world. Learning how to protect myself wasn't a matter of choice.

I reached into the velvet-lined box and lifted the pistol with both hands. It was gorgeous, sleek and matte black. The Petrov crest was engraved on the grip, and just beneath it, my initials were carved in Cyrillic.

Deadly elegance. Just like Uncle Viktor promised.

I ran my thumb over the custom grip, molded to fit my hand perfectly. I pressed the magazine release; it slid out smooth and silent. Gold-tipped bullets gleamed up at me. I loaded the mag back in with a sharp click, then racked the slide, chambering the first round. The sound echoed through the room, clean and cold.

My fingers moved without hesitation, efficient and calm. Safety off. Grip tested. I exhaled slowly, keeping my arm steady.

I turned to see him watching me closely without batting an eye.

“What are you doing?” He asked in that sexy unsettling voice of his.

I pointed the gun at him. “I'll be asking the questions. Why are you here?”

He looked confused. “You said, follow me, and I did.”

Bullshit.

“Shut up! Why are you in my house?! Did you come to finish off what you couldn't a year ago?”

He maintained that confused look that was beginning to irritate me so bad.

“Have we met before?”

“What? Are you seriously denying the fact that you kidnapped me a year ago?”

He tilted his head. “You were kidnapped?”

“Fuck you!”

“Drop the gun Irina, let's use our words.” His hands flew up and knocked out the gun in my hand. I reacted fast, my legs kicked, aiming for his side like a year ago, but he caught my leg midair…like he did a year ago.

I might be tripping but I know that move…that grip.

“I aimed for your ribs like this a year ago and exactly like this, you caught my leg.”

“Your uncle was right about you, he said you can be feisty.”

His grip on my leg hardened as he pulled me closer, our face was barely inches apart. “But you have to be careful Irina, you can't go about fighting random men,” his gaze traveled to my bare skin. “Especially in short dresses like this. You'll be at a disadvantage.”

His hand moved up a bit, caressing my lap. His eyes teased me and mine dared him. When he saw I wasn't going to budge or ask him to stop, he carefully dropped my leg and backed away from me.

“This will be fun,” he smiled, unlocked my door and stepped out.

Lord!

I gasped for air and tried to steady myself. The whole time he was close I held my breath in and I thought I would die.

If his hands had moved a bit further…I would have totally made a fool of myself.

The man is hot!

But wait…damn you Irina. This man is a kidnapper and he wants you dead!

I picked up my gun and ran out of the room.

Not unless I kill him first!