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An elderly man joins our circle. His features are solemn and he speaks with a Russian accent, “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know, Papa.” The blonde stares between me and Adrian. “This woman came out of nowhere.”
The elderly man, her father, watches me with a critical eye, all while I stare speechless at Adrian, trying to figure out what the hell he just said.
It must’ve been a figment of my imagination. Adrian didn’t just imply that I’m a stranger in front of his date.
“Do you know her, Volkov?” the man asks.
“No.” Adrian doesn’t look at me, his voice casual.
If I thought his earlier words hurt, these ones cut so deep, I feel the knife digging inside. The bridge I felt forming between us this morning dissolves into thin air.
Yan finally catches up to me and tries to pull me back by my wrist. I snap out of my daze, attempting to wiggle away. “That’s not—”
“Throw her out,” Adrian says to Yan, jabbing the knife deeper.
The old man looks at me again. “Do you know my daughter’s fiancé, young lady?”
I freeze.
Did he just say his daughter’s fiancé?
My gaze shifts from him to his daughter’s questioning eyes and then back to Adrian’s cold gray ones, and the only answer I can give under the circumstances tumbles from my throat, “No.”
And with that, I let Yan drag me out.
I’m too stunned, too shocked, to move on my own, so I follow his steps mindlessly.
“You should’ve come with me the first time,” Yan mutters under his breath.
Maybe so, but if I had, I wouldn’t have been shaken by this wake-up call.
Adrian has a fiancée. All blonde and beautiful and Russian.
I was only a game to him all this time.
20
Adrian
It takes all of my self-restraint not to watch as Yan drags a half-dazed Lia out of the venue.
If I do, if I look at her, I’ll be tempted to go after her, and that’s the most foolish thing I could do under the circumstances.
By the time Boris informed me she was here, thanks to that fucker Matt, who’s a close associate of the brotherhood, I barely had time to tell Yan to get her out.
That plan was obviously a clusterfuck since she came to me as if she had every right to be by my side.
She doesn’t.
Even though I don’t stare at her, Igor and his daughter,my fiancée, Kristina, do, both measuring her up until she disappears with Yan.
Igor’s attention finally comes back to me, his face hard. “Do I need an explanation, Volkov?”
“No,” I speak with an ease I don’t feel.
“Good. Because I won’t allow you to disrespect my daughter.”
