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The billionaire stepped forward. “Dobroye utro.”
“Good morning.” The brief smile on the billionaire’s face disappeared at my stilted tone.
We started to run, circling around the block in silence before heading down to the park. Most other billionaires I knew – or at least read about – had tons of security with them wherever he went, but Sergei was different.
Or rather Rockton, California was different. Every inch of the town either directly or indirectly belonged to the Grachyovs, and locals were well aware of the fact that they owed their livelihoods to the Russian clan. In this town, the Grachyovs were gods. People didn’t dare approach them without a reason, nor was anyone foolish enough to even contemplate harming them.
I stole a look at the god running next to me.
Were we really just friends?
And did he fuck Madeline last night?
The question tormented me the entire hour we ran, preventing me from having a normal conversation with the billionaire. Every time he spoke, I thought of that same voice, murmuring words of sweet nothings to the model’s ears, and my heart would squeeze so painfully I could barely breathe.
When we made it back to my place, Sergei insisted on accompanying me all the way to my front door as usual. But when I invited him to come in, he shook his head, saying he had a breakfast appointment.
“With Madeline?” The words were out before I could stop myself.
The billionaire gazed at me, his gorgeous face inscrutable. “And if it’s so?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Did you fuck her last night?” I heard myself ask tightly. I knew I was setting myself up for more hurt, but at least there would be closure. I was just so tired of thinking and hoping for the impossible. I just wanted to hear him say the truth so I could move on.
But the billionaire only continued to gaze at me, jaw clenching, and that was when I saw the cold fury in his dark gaze. Blinking in bemusement, I stammered his name out, wondering what he had to be angry about. “S-Sergei?”
He turned his back on me without a word, and when I realized he was really leaving just like that, I instinctively reached for him. “Wait.” My fingers curled around the sleeve of his jacket. “Sergei—-” He whipped around to face me, eyes blazing, and my voice trailed off.
“What right do you have to ask that question,” he hissed, “when we’re just friends?”
Oh.
“Why would you even care,” the billionaire snarled under his breath, “when you obviously think Julian Alexeyev can be of greater help to you?” He suddenly moved towards me, a savage look on his face, and I involuntarily retreated, my heart jumping as my back collided with my front door.
“Sergei—-”
“I’ll answer your question just this once,” he grated out, “but after this, you will never ask it again. Because you were the one who wanted this.”
Ah.
I wanted to look away, but his dark eyes had already captured mine, and there was no way to protect myself from his words.
“You were the one who asked to befriends.” And the way the billionaire looked at me, I already had my answer, and it hurt.
I whirled around, my heart squeezing as I muttered painfully, “I don’t want to talk anymore.” I fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside before he could say something more hurtful. The key slid in, and my body shuddered in relief.Just another second, I thought feverishly,and I wouldn’t have to know—-
“Yes,” Sergei said behind me in a rough undertone. “I fucked her.”
My hand fell limply to my side, and the door swung away from me.
No.
I couldn’t have heard that.
Somebody make me forget I heard that.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the pathetic part of myself wished humans had the ability to will themselves into suffering amnesia.
