Page 174 of Hate to Love You
Especially one like Abby.
Because doing so is like baiting a tiger…It’s never going to go the way you plan.
I sent Abigail shopping for a dress, watching her through the store’s security cameras the whole time.
But somehow, she still manages to walk out of the house in something that barely covers anything at all.
Now I find myself fighting the urge to rip the eyes from the skulls of my entire security detail for staring at her, as it would get blood on my favorite tux.
I’m also now fighting my desire to skip the Gala completely and spend the entire night hearing her scream my name.
As the two of us step into the ballroom it’s immediately evident how stunningly beautiful she is. And as we mingle between the attendees, I watch as all eyes turn to her.
But, unfortunately, that includes my sister, Polina.
“Roman, darling,” she sneers as she glides over to us in her silver sequined full-length gown. “Sleeping with the help now? Tsk tsk.”
Abby’s lips smile politely, but her eyes do not. Eyes that tell me she would love to have her hands on the Antonov dagger and carve something into Polina as well.
Admittedly that would be interesting to watch.
“Polina, you joined us,” I say, rolling my eyes as I take a sip of my champagne. “What a disappointment.”
“And surprising,” Abby says with a smile. “Considering I was sure I mailed the invitation to the wrong address. Intentionally.”
I cough, choking on my champagne.
Her eyes scan Abby’s body, as she clicks her tongue inside her mouth.
“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” She sneers, narrowing her eyes at Abby. “You think you belong here, with us, simply because you flashed a bit of skin and—”
Knowing Polina’s affection for physical altercations, I see the moment she decides to reach for Abby before it happens and I’m able to snatch my sister's arm before she touches Abby.
“Lay a hand on her, sister,” I growl menacingly. “And you’ll be buried with your husband. Have I made myself clear?”
Polina yanks her arm away from me.
“Well, then at least you’d be doing something about it!” She hisses at me, her voice low. “Instead of just sitting on your ass while my husband’s killer is out there, somewhere, free!”
“So sorry for your loss,” Abby taunts, with a vicious grin. “I bet he was quite a standup guy.”
“You don’t get to speak to me, you working-class, bitch—” Polina snaps, once again reaching for Abby.
This time I grab her, and pull her into a tight hug.
“Walk away, Polina,” I whisper. “This is your last warning.”
My sister mutters a curse in Russian as she pulls away from me. She glares at Abby once more before turning around and storming away from the two of us.
My heart is pounding in my chest, my rage taking over my body.
She’s getting far too fucking bold. I’ll have to fix that.
I’m tempted to go after her, put her in a car, and have one of my men take her home, until I’m ready to deal with her myself. But when Abby presses her body against me, and smooths the lapel on my tux, I forget about Polina entirely.
“Let’s dance,” Abby says suddenly, taking the glass from my hand and setting it on the nearest table.
“What?”