I can’t imagine being with anyone but… Matvei.
And I know I’m not feeling well, that I’m compromised, and I… He’s the one who gets me. There’s something about his irreverence and hard edges that makes me crave more of him.
No, this isn’t how I plannedanything.
And I do worry about what he’ll do when he finds out the truth about me.
Especially because I know what he wants from me.
But right now, I’m doing what I always do.
Get through today.
Survive.
I’ve never thought about a future.
And I can’t think about one now.
Chapter Twenty
Matvei
I stare at Polina.
"What the fuck are you telling me?"
When her eyes grow hard, I have to remind myself—I’m talking to the wife of my boss. He’ll fucking cut my tongue out if I disrespect her.
I blow out a breath. “Sorry. It’s not you I’m mad at.”
Rafail stands behind her, watching me. Tense.
He’ll kick my ass if I disrespect her, and I’ll have no choice but to let him.
"Listen, I’m not a medical professional," she says, "but I know them. And wearegoing to get her in with someone."
I nod tightly. "I know. We’re going to find someone we can trust."
"Absolutely," she says. "But I’m telling you this because I know how you operate, and I know if that were me in that bed, Rafail would want to know the truth."
My jaw tightens. "What truth? I want you to spell it out for me."
Rafail growls behind her. "Say please."
Jesus fucking Christ. Am I eighteen again?
I grit my teeth. "Please."
Polina doesn’t flinch.
"What she’s experiencing right now is sometimes related to a genetic condition, like endometriosis or something similar," she says. "But she told me she has scar tissue. Do you know where scar tissue comes from?"
Of course I fucking do. I grunt. "Surgery. Injuries"
"Sometimes, yes. People do have scar tissue from surgery." She levels her gaze at me. "But you also get scar tissue from an injury that hasn’t healed."
I frown.
