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“How? They had an arranged marriage, too.”
“They were in love with each other before the honeymoon ended,” I tell him.
“Uh-huh…” Konstantin says with a raised eyebrow that makes me want to take a razor to his forehead. “And you’re trying to imply that you have no feelings for your pretty little wife-to-be?”
“None at all,” I say definitively.
“Right, right, of course not. Which totally explains why you were an emotional mess when Ivanov’s car rammed into yours.”
“I was in damage control mode.”
He snorts. “Bullshit. You were in panic mode. You wouldn’t even let me touch her. Or are you going to deny that now, too?”
“I won’t need to deny it when I kick you out of my office.”
He smirks with satisfaction. “I dare you to. That would only prove my point.”
I grit my teeth, mostly because the smug asshole is right. “I’m marrying the woman because she’s carrying my baby. I was concerned for her life because I suspected that to be the case even then. That’s all that was; it’s all about the baby. Now, shut up and listen. I have a job for you.”
He perks up immediately. “What is it?”
“Go to the vault,” I tell him. “And get me the family ring.”
Konstantin’s face pales. “The family ring?”
When I nod, his shock turns into a smile. “You want her to wear the family ring. But, yeah, sure, you don’t have feelings for the girl. Very convincing.”
“That ring goes on her finger because I’m the fucking don and she will be my wife. It’s a symbol of status.”
“From a certain perspective, it could also be construed as a gesture of affection. Maybe even… love?” He curls his hands together over his heart and bats his lashes at me, pupils practically morphing into beating heart shapes like a cartoon character.
I scowl and flit a hand toward the exit. “Get out, Konstantin. You’ve worn out your welcome.”
“Love you, too, cuz,” he says as he saunters toward the door with that shit-eating grin on his face. Before it slams shut, he throws back a final piece of advice. “And tell your mother you’re getting married!”
24
PAIGE
“Douche. He’s just a giant flippingdouche!”
A giant flipping douche who stocked my bathroom with the organic, non-toxic soaps, shampoos, and moisturizers that I wrote down on the list he forced me to make.
The kitchen also looks like the vegan grocery store I could never afford to shop at. The cupboards are overflowing with grass-fed snacks and sustainably-made ice cream and every healthy junk food I could ever imagine.
Douchey as he is, he nailed it.
But that doesn’t mean it’s not unforgivable.
“Did you say something, Mrs. Orlov?” Rada asks meekly.
“Paige!” I practically scream, spinning around to face Rada. Her face drops and I immediately feel like a raging bitch. “I’m sorry, Rada. Just… please call me Paige. I’m literally begging you to call me Paige.”
She sighs. I’m sure Misha gave her the exact opposite order. “Okay, Paige,” she says carefully, though she does it in a hushed voice with a look over both shoulders like her boss might be watching. “Did you need something?”
“Well, I’m looking in my closet and some of my clothes are missing.”
“Oh.”
