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“You don’t have to send them my condolences; I’ll take them myself.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s not happening.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand and cuts me off. “You need to rest, Paige. And with Petyr making attempts on your life at every turn, I don’t think it’s wise for you to be moving around out in the open.”
I’m starting to get suspicious that the real Misha is somewhere else and the thing I’m talking to is just a robot programmed to repeatYou need to rest, Paige,over and over again until I jump off a cliff.
“They detonated that bomb the moment the car pulled into the driveway, Misha. Petyr didn’t just want to kill me; he wanted to send you a message. He also believes that message has been delivered. He thinks I’m dead. So he’s not going to be looking for me.” I can see that he’s less than pleased with my logic. It gives me a perverse sense of satisfaction to win one over on him. “I may have fallen pretty hard, Misha, but I’m still in full control of all my faculties. I’m going with you tomorrow.”
He takes a step towards me, his eyes catching mine in a death grip that sucks the air straight from my lungs. “No, you’re really fucking not.”
“You can protect me without suffocating me. I’m your wife, not your prisoner.”
“If being my prisoner is what it’s going to take to keep you alive, then I’m fine with that.”
Adrenaline buzzes under my skin. But it’s not just anger that’s adding fuel to this fire; there’s a persistent throbbing between my legs that’s goading me into this fight.
“I’ll be with you. What’s the problem?” I demand.
“The problem is I’m not interested in being caught out in public with a liability chained to my hip.” He spits out the words like he’s disgusted with me.
I take a step back, shaken by the venom in his tone. What the hell could have happened in the last twelve hours that could have brought about this one-eighty change?
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, incredulous. “Why are you being like this?”
“This is who I am.”
“No it’s not!” I’m livid at him for changing the rules on me again. For pulling this bait-and-switch, this Jekyll-and-Hyde act,again.“You were by my side for two entire days and nights. We slept next to each other, shared secrets in the dark. You held me through my nightmares and my tears. The man who did that isnotthe same one standing in front of me now.”
I can see it again: the storm raging under that calm silver gaze. His jaw is set.
There’s no going back now.
I inch closer to him. Unlikely as it is, I still want to reclaim the closeness we had. “Misha, you told me—you promised me—that you’d stay with me.”
He flinches and then turns away from me. A cold shoulder has never felt so frigid. “I shouldn’t have made a promise I didn’t intend to keep.”
6
MISHA
When I walk into Orion, the atmosphere is tense.
No one speaks to me as I move quickly through the lobby and up to my office. I’m not surprised, considering the war raging inside of my chest. The violent struggle between doing what I want and doing what needs to be done.
I feel like a powder keg ready to explode. A feeling not helped by my wife, who seems deadset on doing stupid shit like attending a public funeral when she’s supposed to be dead.
My quiet walk through the building ends abruptly when I step into my office and am assaulted by a strong floral fragrance.
“You came in today.” Konstantin is frozen in the middle of my office, a vase of white lilies in his hands. “I thought I had time to get rid of all the flowers.”
Bouquets and house plants perch on every conceivable surface. Three identical arrangements of white roses and pink carnations sit on my desk, and another next to the door. Peace lilies and bristling ferns line a path to my desk chair. One arrangement of purple and blue flowers has tipped sideways, leaving topsoil sinking into the fibers of my carpet.
“Looks like the news is out,” I drawl. “The don has lost his wife.”
“I can have the place back to normal in half an hour,” my cousin promises me. “I already told your assistant to forward future deliveries to my office. Or directly to the dumpster.”
I wave him away. “Don’t bother. Leave them where they are. We need to keep up appearances. If the world believes Paige is dead, then Petyr will, too.”
Konstantin sets down the vase he’s holding into the only open space on top of my bar cart. “I’ve put the word out there that we had a small, private ceremony for Paige. You’re a private man, so no one is questioning it.”
