Page 103 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

I lifted my arms and let them fall limp beside me when I felt my words tumbling inside me. “Anna, I don't want to build false hopes. I don’t want to tell myself there is more when he has not explicitly said anything to me. I’m allowed to want to keep my heart safe without being told I was scared.”

Her expression softened as she pushed off the drawer. “You love him.”

It wasn’t a question and I didn’t have it in me to deny it. I’d gone through every possible route of denial and self-preservation, and they all pointed to one thing.

The reason why I was scared and undecided about his history and the world he navigated behind business deals and pressed suits was because my feelings had become compromised, and not because I was trying to make a careful decision.

“Am I fucked?” I looked to Anna, who still had the same softness on her face.

“I would be surprised if you didn’t. I mean, the man might be a little questionable, but he’s been better than any of the men you’d spoken to in the past.”

I let out a bitter laugh as the memories of my very few but brief failed talking stages came to mind.

The universe did have a unique sense of humor.

First, the okay men with no baggage were assholes, and the one who ticked almost all my boxes lived double lives.

“I won’t judge you for wanting to be with him, Gen. I’ve always thought him to be a sexy son of a bitch, and this might sound wrong, but I believe that layer of danger surrounding him just bumped him up on my hot radar.”

The chuckle that spilled from my lips hardly matched the incredulous look I sent her. Of course she would think an air of danger made a person hotter.

“What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I say I won’t judge you and you go full courtroom on me?”

“Me?” I placed a palm on my chest. “I would never.”

Anna crossed over the side of the room to pull a pair of black stilettos from my shoe rack. “There you go, perfect ensemble.”

“Thank you.” I gathered the dress into my hands and headed into the bathroom. “And can we switch to a topic that doesn’t involve my boss or work?”

“For now.” I didn’t need to see her face to know she was probably grinning without repentance. “But I expect a full report tomorrow. With details.”

I gave her no reply, but I was grateful when she switched out to the latest drama in her office.

As much as I hated to admit it, talking about Kazimir still made me nervous, and speculations of the opera being a date and not a meeting had my stomach in knots I knew would only loosen if my mind shifted from him.

The car Kazimir sent arrived precisely on time, sleek and black and entirely too conspicuous for the modest street I lived on.

Anna made a face as if to say, ‘I told you it was a date,’ but knew better than to voice her suspicions.

I slid into the back seat, feeling more nervous than the occasion technically warranted for what was, according to the story I’d told Anna and myself, a work obligation dressed up as an evening out.

The opera house glittered against the dark sky when we pulled up, its facade lit gold, a small crowd of exquisitely dressed patrons filtering in through the grand entrance.

I almost missed Kazimir standing next to a young man with a sleek back that would probably send his stylist to a restock.

He was dressed in a charcoal black tux with his hair casually styled in a low-effort manner that somehow managed to make him look even more charming.

His company was talking animatedly and I figured, to the dismay of the sinking feeling in my chest, that he was the client we were to meet while Kazimir stood with his signature passive expression.

I scanned the environment for a familiar mop of brown and perpetual smile, a brooding, tall figure or a woman dressed to the nines and came up with nothing.

Even the men in suits who seemed to follow wherever Kazimir went were absent. Or maybe they were in a more discreet location given the nature of the event, and Nikolai, Lev and Rose had probably gone in first.

“Mr. Ivanovich,” I greeted as I approached Kazimir.