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“Why did he do that?” I don’t know if I should be asking this question or if I want to know its answer. Too late to take it back now.
“He lost.”
“Can you be more specific?” I ask while rolling my eyes at his vague response.
“He probably sold Elena off to someone else for more money, and we ruined his plans.”
That is sick. She is a human, not an object to be sold to the highest bidder.
“That’s how my world works, krasavitsa.”
I wish he would stop calling me that. I have no idea what it means, which only infuriates me more. “What does that mean?” I ask, hoping he will tell me now that he is in a somewhat forthcoming mood and giving me answers
He smirks. “Flounder.”
I gasp at his audacity. Has he been calling me a fish this whole time?
“Really? You have been calling me a character from The Little Mermaid this whole time?”
He laughs.
“Couldn’t you have called me mermaid? I do have red hair.”
His laughter is infectious. I can’t stop myself from laughing with him. Andrei walks out a few moments later. When Maxim sees him, he stops and composes himself. Back to mafia boss mode. It's annoying but flattering that he can be himself with me. My phone buzzes from a text from Jenny.
Jenny: We’re leaving the house now. Where are you?
I type a quick reply.
Me: Five minutes away.
Turning to them, I ask, “Are you guys all done? I have somewhere to be.”
“Yes,” Andrei says.
After they leave, I go to the back to clean up. That way, I don’t have to get here earlier to clean up on Monday. When I’m done, I turn on the alarm and make my exit. Mimosas, here I come. Who am I kidding? I need something stronger. Reaching my car, I see Maxim leaning by the driver's door. I thought I had finally gotten rid of him.
“Can’t you get the hint?” I say, stopping in front of him.
“Can’t a man say bye to his girl?”
I roll my eyes at that comment. What do I have to do to make him leave me alone?
“Why is it so hard for you to grasp that we’re not an item. There’s no us. Now, can you move? I have somewhere to be.”
He gives me that sexy half-smile that makes my knees buckle. It’s not fair. He knows what it does to me. He does it on purpose.
“You want me to move? Then kiss me goodbye.” He taps his index fingers to his lips. Yeah, no, that is not happening. If I kiss him, I’m not going to want to stop.
“I’d rather walk,” I say. Suddenly, I’m lifted off my feet and pushed back into a hard chest. I get hit by the scent of mint, vanilla, and caramel. Maxim.
“Let go of me,” I scream and start thrashing my body for him to release me.
He tsks. “Behave, Sophia.” And then nibbles on my ears. A hot sensation forms in my belly. Why does he make me feel these sorts of things? I should be running away. Far, far away. But somehow, I keep landing myself in these situations. He presses firmly with one hand into my stomach and, with the other, tenderly runs his hand up to my throat. He wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing. Not hard enough for me to not be able to breathe, but hard enough that I stop moving.
“Good girl,” he growls. “You want me to let you go? Then stop acting like a spoiled brat, and give me the kiss I deserve.”
“No,” I manage to say breathlessly.
