A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

thirty six

Caine

I pace back and forth in front of the crackling fire in my study.

I can't erase the images of Maeve in Ilya's arms. The way he had held her close and how her cheeks had heated in response. I had the mind to raid Vlad's entire organization. Rip it open at the seams and let the blood flow like a current. It was one thing to fuck with my men, another to threaten the life of the woman I am meant to protect.

It was ballsy of Ilya to show up unprotected in a room full of people who would love nothing more than to see him dead. He had said he was there to meet Maeve, which I knew to be partly true. Ilya has always liked to stir up trouble at every turn, but I couldn't help thinking there was something bigger at play.

The Sokolovs' had never taken any interest in the gala or any events the city had to offer for that matter. It unnerved me that he managed to catch me off guard tonight. He appeared like a shadow on the wall, taunting me with his antics. I had left Maeve unprotected. Had let her fall right into his charming trap.

I was more angry at myself than at her. I had named myself the title of her guardian, yet I had let her slip out my sight only to land in the clutches of the enemy. Although she was unharmed this time, I doubted I would be so lucky in the future.

My head pounded and my bones ached. I had never been someone that required much sleep, but lately with the organization being threatened by Vlad and now Ivan, I felt the years of sleeplessness catching up to me.

I pour the rest of my bourbon in the fireplace, watching as the flames lick higher. Deciding to call it a night, I ascend the staircase, heading towards my own room. My eyes instinctively go towards the room at the end of the hall.

The door is shut, but I can make out the faint glow from the lamplight coming from underneath the doorframe. I hesitate a moment, battling between knocking and checking to see if she's okay, or just walking away. I sigh deeply, deciding that maybe it best to just give her some space.

Once I enter my room, I undress and stand under the streaming hot water of my shower, wishing the rivulets could wash away the haunting images in my head. I dry myself off and wrap the bath towel tight around my waist. Walking back into my bedroom, my body tenses as my gaze takes in the form of Maeve. She's standing in front of my four poster bed in nothing but a thin lacy nightgown. We short of just stare at each other, the low lamplight casting shadows over her features. I realize begrudgingly, she wishes for me to break the silence. I, after all was supposedly angry at her.

"What are you doing in here?" I ask, my voice coming out more hollow than I intended. She clenches her jaw in frustration, twisting that ring around on her finger.

"I know you're angry with me." The slightly wounded note of her voice causes me to pause.

I take a deliberate breath before speaking, not wanting to scare her off, or worse, piss her off more than she already is.

"It was my fault. I let you out of my sight."

She laughs, the sound tight and bitter. "Oh yeah, I forgot I was a sixteen year old girl incapable of taking care of myself."

"That's not what I meant." I counter.

"No, but that's how you treat me." She sneers.

"I don't wish to argue." I bite. I walk into my to my walk in closet in search of some underwear. I pull a drawer open and pull out a pair of black boxer briefs. Maeve comes up beside me and snatches them from my hands.

"Yeah, well you should of thought about that before you practically salivated at the sight of Viktoria." She growls. I narrow my eyes at her. Her face is set into an expression of loathing, her eyes slanted, her mouth drawn up. I can't help but trail my eyes lower to those perfect rounded breasts, begging me to squeeze them.