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Pushing that unpleasant thought out of my mind, I enter Natasha’s building and spend the next couple of hours hanging out at her apartment, gossiping about everyone we know. Her place is almost as nice as our penthouse, even though her parents aren’t nearly as rich. They’re multi-millionaires, but that’s nothing in our circle. Some of the other girls look down on Natasha for that, but I’ve always liked her, ever since we attended the same exclusive kindergarten here in Moscow.
“You okay? You seem out of it,” she says, and I realize I haven’t answered her question about my spring break plans. She wants me to go to Ibiza with her, I think. Or is it Belize?
“Yeah, sorry. Just got poor sleep.” I push my fingers through my hair. “I think I’m down. Mama told me last year I could go once I’m in high school, but I’ll run it past her and let you know.”
Natasha chews on a strand of her blond hair. “I really hope you can go. Kristina will be there. And Vitalik.”
Of course. Vitalik, Natasha’s crush since the third grade—who’s currently dating Kristina, the bitchiest girl we know. Without me as a buffer, Kristina will eat Natasha alive.
“I’ll do my best,” I say and stand up from the couch, preparing to head out.
“Excuse me,” a curvy blond woman says, entering the living room. She’s the housekeeper—Lyudmila, I think. “There’s a delivery for Alina Molotova.”
“For me?” I blink at her. “But I don’t live here.”
She shrugs and hands me a black velvet box, the kind that often contains jewelry. “The note said to give it to you, so here you go.”
“Open it,” Natasha urges. Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement. “Maybe it’s from a secret admirer.”
“Here in Moscow? Yeah, right.” I wait for Lyudmila to leave, and then I carefully open the box.
Inside is a ring.
A big, gaudy male ring with the crest of a Yale fraternity.
The box drops from my nerveless fingers. The ring falls out of it and rolls across the floor.
“What is it?” Natasha asks, alarmed, but I’m already running out of the room, chasing Lyudmila.
“The note,” I say urgently, catching up with her in the kitchen. “Where’s the note?
“Oh, umm, hold on.” She grabs it from a stack of papers on one of the counters. “Here you go.”
I grab it and frantically scan it.
It’s only two lines:
For Alina Molotova.
-AL
Chapter5
Present Day, Location Unknown
“What are you doing here?” I ask, raising my chin.
I hate that my voice is shaking and my hands are frantically clutching at the edges of my towel as if I were a virginal maiden.
Which I actually am. He’s ensured that.
The cruel curve of Alexei’s lips deepens, dark amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. “It’s my boat.”
“I meant here in my cabin.” There, steadier now. Maybe I can still salvage this situation, buy myself a little more time.
He arches his eyebrows. “It’s my cabin also.”
My insides twist with fear and something far more unsettling. Simultaneously, my breathing picks up, my skin prickling with that dangerous heat I only ever feel around him. I’m acutely cognizant of his size and strength, of the way his thick muscles flex underneath the soft cotton of his black T-shirt and how his dark, well-worn jeans hug his powerfully built legs. Of the tattoos that cover his forearms, simultaneously concealing and emphasizing their sinewy strength.
