(DASHA)
That asshole.
Rage burned over my skin like a bad sunburn. After everything that happened last night, he'd locked me up and ignored me for hours.
Apparently, I wasn't even allowed to see Alya. What the fuck?
Now night had fallen, and I could hear loud music blaring from the back of the yacht.
An hour ago, a helicopter landed on the helipad in front of Nikolai's stateroom, and six beautiful women emerged. Six. Women. Way more than what Massimo and Vito could handle alone. Were some of those women for Nikolai? Was he fucking someone right now?
The fact that I cared absolutely infuriated me.
I paced in his suite, cracking my knuckles like a prizefighter. God, I wanted to punch him. He'd made me care about him, then chained me up again so he could screw another woman.
My heart squeezed. I was so stupid. If this were a movie, people would be shouting and throwing popcorn at me on the screen.
