Decommissioned.
A nice way of saying she wants me dead.
Murphy snaps his head to glare at her. “She’s a Mikhailov wife. We’ve been through this, Cordelia. We can’t just off her.”
“Can’t we?” Renata asks with her arms crossed and her eyes burning into mine.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
Murphy bangs his fist on the table. “No. We can’t. That’s final. You can’t just kill a wife because her husband is dead. If I died and you pulled this shit with Stella—”
His head turns a little to steal a glance at Stella beside him. She uncrosses her arms slowly as her expression melts from defiance and frustration to concern and sympathy. The sympathy isn’t for me though, it’s for Murphy.
His face transforms from angry king to indulgent husband. It’s more than a little shocking the way that a single look from Stella has softened him so quickly. He takes a deep, controlled breath, then blows it out harshly. “The matter is settled,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Renata will continue to coordinate Anya’s care for another year. We’ll reevaluate at the next O’Shea-hosted meeting.”
Renata scoffs and it sparks a sudden fire in my belly. I’m already frustrated that I don’t have approval to host the next meeting in Russia, and having her here to react like a child with her derisive noises only fuels that angry flame.
It angers me enough to clap back at her, even though I know it’s stupid to bite the hand that feeds me. “Don’t be such a bitch about it. Honestly, Renata, the way you behave is so childish. Sometimes I think you need a keeper. Really, Murphy,” I say, catching his eyes, “that woman is emotionally unstable. She’s lucky she has Lorenzo to help make her decisions because otherwise, she wouldn’t know what side of the bed to get out of in the morning.”
The men in the room snicker, enjoying my apt assessment of Renata. She and Cordelia are the only ones fuming at me. But Renata’s fury is enough to make my spine tingle in warning.
A slow smile spreads across her face and she tilts her head slowly to one side. I feel a chill as she reminds me of the reason why I don’t tell her every time I think she’s acting like a whiny, entitled jackass.
“Darling girl, your lover still belongs to me,” she says.
Ezra is still her slave when he’s not my talent.
And she’ll use him to hurt me.
Chapter 18
Ezra
I shake my head as I jolt awake—the side of my head that was perched on my fist slipped off when I drifted to sleep. My elbow was on the armrest propping me up, but now that I’m conscious again, I slam my arms down on the rests, pushing myself back in the seat and straightening my spine.
I’m determined to stay awake.
I want to be aware when Renata returns from the board meeting. I want to see her face, study her body language, get a sense for whether things went better for her than they did for Anya. If she comes back happy, then I’ll know things didn’t go well for my blue-eyed girl.
So, I hope she comes back angry as fuck.
I blink against the darkness. Renata had shut off the lights before she left me and Luca—chained to the floor by a cuff around the ankle—and locked us inside this bedroom. She told us to get some sleep, seeing that these board meetings are held late into the night.
But as tired as I am, I’m not going to sleep.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait too long. I hear the click of the lock and in moments, it flings open wide, slamming back against the wall behind it with a thud that makes me jump.
The lights flash on and the door slams shut again. Renata starts spewing out a string of Italian words as she locks the door behind her. Luca springs up out of bed where he was sleeping and moves toward her. I have no idea what the fuck she’s saying as he moves to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, stroking her arms in a comforting way.
Internally, I fucking cheer.
Everything about her demeanor screams that she’s furious and I’m happy for it—it means my girl owned her shit in that meeting.
I push to my feet and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for Renata to start barking orders at me. If I have to watch her fuck Luca one more damn time, I swear I’m gonna claw my eyes out. As pissed off as she looks, I can’t imagine she’ll have the interest tonight, though I’ve been wrong before.
Luca rubs his hand down her hair, stroking the side of her face as she spits out rage-filled words that I don’t understand. The poor kid is hopelessly in love with her, but Renata is so hateful, so prideful that she insists on drawing me into their twisted relationship instead of just focusing on the guy who actually gives a damn about her.
Her eyes catch mine during her tirade. She gives Luca an order and he’s down on his knees in a second. But he sits back on his heels and bows his head instead of pushing her dress up over her hips and taking off her underwear.
Fuck.
She’s coming after me.
She strides across the room and I drop my hands to my sides, fists clenched, skin buzzing with warning.
“Take off your clothes, Ezra.”
My chest heaves with a heavy breath. Everything within me begs to resist her order, but I know I can’t. She’ll hurt me with the electric shock on my collar, but that’s not what I fear. If I don’t follow her orders, she’ll hurt Anya and I will do anything to keep that from happening.
I took off my jacket, tie, and shirt from the reception before she left and I’m only left standing before her in my pants. I look down at the metal cuff around my ankle. “Am I supposed to do a magic trick or are you gonna remove the cuff?”
“Luca,” she calls him over and he comes.
She pulls a key from her handbag and hands it to him. He bends to unlock the ankle cuff which is attached to a long chain that’s bolted to the floor. Luca stands and gives the key back to her. It would never even occur to this sad sap to unlock his own damn cuff because he’s so in love with this bitch that he wouldn’t dare do something without asking her permission first.
I know the drill and I don’t see any point in stalling, so I strip until I’m standing naked in front of her. It’s happened often enough now that I’ve gotten used to being ogled by her.
Used to it, but not fucking happy about it.
Renata tilts her head, glancing down at my crotch. A nasty smirk lifts the side of her mouth and I can feel my nostrils flare with a slow-burning rage as I hold out my hands and narrow my eyes at her.
“What do you want from me tonight? Foot massage? Back rub? Tie you to the bed for fuck boy to use you? Maybe add another scar so you can play with my blood?”