"Ahem."
Until Patrick, standing by the flower stand, gave a very light, somewhat helpless cough that finally broke the suffocating spell.
"I think... the assessment can conclude successfully here." Patrick tucked the baton into his tailcoat pocket, his tone extremely subtle, even amused. "The affection and chemistry between you two fiancés has clearly reached a level that makes me, an outsider, feel somewhat superfluous. If I stay any longer, I'm afraid I'll become the third wheel interrupting your 'tactical exchange.'"
My brain rebooted with a loud "whoosh."
Like I'd been burned, I frantically released my hand from Nikolai's arm, awkwardly stumbling back half a step to create a safe distance.
I looked down, pretending to carefully smooth my slightly disheveled practice dress while trying to cool my burning cheeks with the back of my hand.
Dammit, my ears must be completely red right now.
"Ms. Cole." Patrick turned toward the door, and before leaving, he bowed slightly to me. "You are the fastest-improving, most perfectly performing student I've encountered in my career. I'm officially awarding you the title of 'Outstanding Graduate.' You have the rest of today off. Early dismissal."
Early dismissal?
I snapped my head up, my blue eyes bursting with almost unbelievable wild joy. God, that meant I had an entire afternoon and evening to completely escape those damned etiquette lessons, arrogant socialite files, and this dangerous man who made my heart go haywire!
Somewhat guiltily but excitedly, I turned to look at Nikolai standing nearby.
He had one hand in his trouser pocket, watching my barely-contained jubilation with obvious disdain, then quirked that sharp eyebrow, his meaning crystal clear. "Get lost.You're free."
"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Pakhan!"
I gave him a perfectly executed court farewell curtsy, then, without waiting another second, ran out of the conservatory in my heels.
Back in my room, I flew onto the bed, grabbed my phone, and quickly called Mia.
"Mia! Big news! I got early dismissal!" I shrieked quietly into the receiver. "Listen, I'm free now! Two-thirty, that old British tearoom in Georgetown, you have to come! I need the strongest black tea and three scones loaded with clotted cream!"
"Jesus Christ, Vivienne, you're actually alive?" Mia exploded with an extremely high-pitched exclamation. "This morning, I was wondering if I should have my brother bring a search team to drag the Potomac! Fine, see you in thirty, and you better spill every single sordid detail from your time in that mafia den!"
I hung up and changed at record speed. I threw on a comfortable floral sundress with a thrifted denim jacket over it. I even took time to do a sharp, aggressive bombshell makeup look.
But when I cheerfully pushed open that heavy carved black door of the estate castle, all my happiness stalled again.
At the bottom of the marble steps, that bulletproof black Escalade SUV was already waiting, engine rumbling with a low, beast-like growl.
And Sasha stood like a pure black statue carved from hell, ramrod straight and expressionless by the passenger door. Those cold eyes behind the sunglasses locked onto me the instant I came down.
"Ms. Cole." Sasha opened the rear door for me, his heavy, thick Eastern European accent devoid of inflection like a machine. "The car is ready. Please get in."
"Uh... Sasha." I stopped awkwardly on the steps, tugging at my purse chain. "I'm just meeting my best friend downtown for ordinary afternoon tea. This is my personal life, and this is Washington—the security's fine. You... don't really need to come along, right?"
Sasha maintained his expressionless door-opening posture, his rock-hard face not even twitching a single muscle.
"These are Pakhan's orders, Ms. Cole." He coldly spat out the finalwords, his tone carrying an absolute, non-negotiable command. "For the next year, you cannot leave this estate without my escort."
I rolled my eyes massively in my head, internally cursing that controlling bastard who'd pretended to give me freedom three whole times.
But he was my boss.
I sighed resignedly and ducked into the spacious Escalade's back seat.
Thirty minutes later, outside that classically romantic outdoor café in Georgetown.
Mia sat at a white wrought-iron table holding an iced matcha latte. When she looked up and saw Sasha behind me in his pure black suit and sunglasses, expressionless and radiating danger, she nearly spat the latte all over the table.
