I can hear her settling into a chair, getting comfortable. "Tell me you've gotten rid of that girl by now. She's been nothing but a problem since I met her father."
"Mila's not your problem, Vera. She works for me now." Her hatred for Anton's offspring should’ve clued him in to how evilshe is immediately, but they say love is blind. I guess Radin was a fool too, to love a woman like her.
"I don't understand why. She has no place in your household, Roman. She's not one of my daughters and she has nothing to offer you. Send her back to me and let's focus on what's actually?—"
"That's not why I'm calling." I take a sip of the whiskey and pace to the other side of the room and back. I'm not interested in a pissing match, and I won't send Mila back to that home to be manipulated any more. "I'm calling to confirm that you and the girls will be at the gala."
"Of course we'll be there. Sofi and Sabine have been looking forward to it for weeks. They had a wonderful time the other day, by the way. They couldn't stop talking about it."
I'm sure they couldn't. The memory of last week turns my stomach—Sofi climbing into my lap at the dinner table and Sabine pressing herself against my arm and running her fingers through my hair and both of them so aggressive that I had to physically remove them from my body more than once. I smiled through it to keep them on the hook, but the thought of doing it again makes me want to down the whole bottle of whiskey and knock myself out.
"They were very enthusiastic," I tell her, keeping it at that. Those girls have a lot of growing up to do. I wouldn't even think of taking them to my bed, not even at the same time—and that's just about every man's fantasy.
"They're passionate women. You'll appreciate that quality once you've made your decision." She pauses and then says,"Speaking of which, where's your head at these days? A mother likes to prepare her daughter for good news."
"Oh, now, you wouldn't want me to spoil the secret, would you?" Here's where I begin to get some satisfaction. This game of cat and mouse escalated to another level when I learned who Vera really is. She thinks she's the cat, and I've got her right where I want her.
"Not even a hint?"
"Not even a hint. But I'll be making a significant announcement at the gala. In front of everyone. I'd expect you to be surprised, and I hope you'll approve of my choice."
"You're torturing me, Roman." Vera snickers, and I picture her pawing at the air in feigned innocence. But I suspect internally, she's roiling with anxious tension. She wants to sink her claws into my fortune and she wants it now. Waiting is torture to her.
"Oh, I think you'll be very surprised."
"Well, I trust your judgment. And I'm confident you'll make the right decision for both our families."
"Yes, well, I have to run. I'm glad to hear you'll be attending. Wear something nice, won't you? Can't have you in the spotlight if you're underdressed."In a bright orange jumpsuit… I want to add, but I bite my tongue.
"Oh, you devilish man." She cackles again, a little too reminiscent of Sabine's obnoxious snickering, and I end the call and set the phone on the nightstand. The remainder of the whiskey goes down smoothly as I stand in the center of my room and try to let tension roll off my back.
I haven't seen Mila in days—I've been too busy. Before that, she was sick, throwing up and too sick to serve dinner. Rebecca told me she'd been in bed for most of the week. I didn't push it because if Mila is really sick, I can't have her up and about sharing germs. But it's been long enough now that her absence is starting to get under my skin, and I'm craving interaction. Besides, I have to tell her my thoughts.
So I send Yegor a text to bring her to me, and minutes later, there's a knock. Yegor opens the door and Mila walks in dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Her hair is pulled back and her face is bare. She looks tired and closed off and she still makes me hard the second she walks through the door.
"That's all," I tell Yegor, and he leaves and closes the door behind him.
Mila stands near the doorway with her arms folded and doesn't come farther into the room. Her eyes go to the whiskey glass in my hand and then to the bed and then to the window, and she doesn't look at me directly.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Better."
"You still look a little tired," I say softly, hoping she doesn't take it the wrong way. After traveling, I hoped to invite her to my bed tonight. Sharing my thoughts with her should be special, not just a business meeting. What I'm offering will affect her, and I hope it will be a positive thing.
"Thanks for that," she grumbles, rolling her eyes, and I know she's insulted.
"Come sit down." I nod toward the bed.
"I'm fine here."
"Mila."
"I said I'm fine." Her arms tighten across her chest. "What do you want, Roman?"
"I want you to come to bed with me." I set the glass on the nightstand and loosen my tie. My body is ready to go, but I'm willing to take my time to help her get in the mood. The chemistry we have is electric. Surely, she'll want more of what I've already given her.
"I can't. I have my period." Mila's head drops, and I watch her shoulders slump. As far as I know, she's not had a period yet, though I don’t stalk her cycles. It makes sense, and it's logical. It's disappointing, though. I wanted her, and while it wouldn’t bother me one bit, if she's not comfortable, I won’t pressure her.
