Taming the Tyrant (Book Boyfriends For the Holidays)

Chapter 7

Zakhar tossed his jacket over the armchair in his home study while he rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. He looked ruggedly handsome with his extended beard growth and muscular arms. Damn, the man’s chest was bursting from his shirt and his pants conform to his thighs too damn much.

I was getting frustrated that he was that gorgeous and other women would be lusting after him when I wasn’t around. I couldn’t believe I was jealous of my own thoughts!

I walked over to him and placed my hand on his chest. “Stay calm and don’t do anything rash. Just listen to what she has to say.”

He bent over and kissed me just as a knock came at the door. We pulled apart as he bade the person enter. Polina, his sister-in-law entered with a smile. I stepped back and returned to my seat beside his desk.

“Zakhar, you called for me?” she asked.

She was a tall slender woman with beautiful golden tresses that fell down her back. Her soft grey eyes were like a cat’s, and her smile livened her features. She knew how to expertly apply her makeup to always look elegant and sophisticated.

He walked over to the sidebar and poured himself a drink, downing it in one gulp. I watched as he tried to control his emotions. I could see his hand tightening around the lowball glass he just drank from as his jaw clenched and unclenched. But that was futile. I knew the exact moment he said fuck it before he turned, strode over to her and grabbed her by the throat.

Jumping to my feet, I ran over and grabbed his arm. “Zakky, no,” I whispered.

A few seconds passed as Polina tried to breathe. Her hands had come up to grasp his, but her attempt to pry his large hand away was in futility. His face softened when he heard my voice, and I was always able to get him to calm down whenever I called him Zakky. It was my personal nick name for him, and he sometimes made me repeat it several times when he was in a bad mood. At times he’d call me from his office just to hear me call him that.

He released his hold on her throat and dropped his hand. I pulled him away as Polina coughed and staggered backwards, massaging her throat. Guiding him to his chair behind the desk, I waited until he was seated before moving. I went to the sidebar and poured him another drink, bringing it to him, he took it and swallowed it within seconds.

“You calm?” I queried.

“I’m calm,” he smiled.

He picked a sheet of paper from the desk that contained my toxicology report and tossed it at Polina. She glanced down at the paper as it fell to the floor. Her eyes were bloodshot and runny as she panted for air and continued to massage her throat.

“Pick it up,” Zakhar ordered, his voice like steel. She scrambled forward and picked up the document, her eyes scanning its contents. He continued, “You have thirty seconds to explain yourself.”

“What is this?” she squeaked.

Zakhar’s hand came down hard on the desk. Both Polina and I jumped at the sound his palm made against the wood. Even the glass jumped a centimeter or two out of place where he’d set it.

“I’m giving you the curtesy to answer because you are married to my brother,” Zakhar grated. “So, dispel with the bullshit!”

I’d never heard him use curse words. Therefore, this surprised me. I moved from beside Zakhar and went back to the sidebar to get some water. Polina straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. I sipped my water expectantly, waiting for her answer with bated breath. Why did she hate me?

She turned to face me. “She stole what should have been mine.”

I saw Zakhar rise, ready to rush around again and I held my hand up. “Let me handle this, okay?”

He sat back down in his chair and stared at me. I finished my water and set the glass down, coming to stand in front of Polina.

“Stole what’s yours? I have my own husband. I have no interest in Kiev. I’m sorry if my friendship with…”

“I’m not talking about that imbecile,” she barked.

“What are you talking about?” I dared to ask.

“It should have been me, not you. It was Zakhar that I loved, but he made me marry that brother of his that I can’t stand, and now he’s married to a commoner. I’m a descendant of royals.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” I laughed as I found this quite amusing, while at the same time my blood boiled.

Her voice lowered an octave. “I should be the one carrying his baby, not you.”

“Are you mad?” I asked. “You must be out of your freaking mind. If Zakhar wanted you, he would have married you!”

“And his marriage to you is just so you can bear his heir” she returned.

I heard the slap before I realized what I did. Polina grabbed her cheek, her eyes widening in horror. I looked at my open palm and inhaled deeply.

“That’s for being a complete bitch,” I hissed. My open palm came up and landed on her cheek a second time. “That’s for trying to murder my child.”

I raised my hand to give her a third slap. She cringed. Thinking that it was not worth it, I dropped my hand and glanced over my shoulder to see the deadliest look on Zakhar’s face.

“I need you out of this house,” I commanded, before my husband could say anything.

“Who the hell are you to demand such a thing?” she questioned foolishly.

“You said you were from the Royals; well, I am Queen. I don’t want you around me, my husband, or my child. You pack your bags and leave by morning, and don’t you dare think of taking the children with you.”

“I’m not leaving.”

I leaned close to her ear and whispered. “If you don’t, you’ll have to deal directly with Zakhar, and you don’t want that. You tried to murder his heir and he’s barely holding back his rage. All I have to do is say the word and you’re dead.”

She staggered back with a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“And the kids stay here,” I reminded her.

She began to walk away, then hesitated, giving me a death stare. I shot darts in her direction, silently letting her know I was no pushover. Inwardly, I told myself never to be another nice guy as I didn’t know whom I could trust.