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“Where the fuck were you, Cordelia?”
“I just told you: I was in the bathroom, Mikhail.”
Is Ivan somewhere behind me? Can he see me right now? The urge to turn around and find him is strong, but I shove it down.
Instead, I pat Mikhail’s forearm as gently as I can bear to. “Did something happen? Is everything okay?”
He frowns at my gentle touch. Then he follows the line of my arm up, up, up. For the first time all day, he looks at me. Reallylooksat me.
Then he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the restaurant.
I struggle to keep up with his long strides. “I’m in heels,” I remind him. “Can we slow down? Where are we—”
We duck behind a tall hedge and he turns on me. “Did you know he would be here?”
Warning bells blare so loud I can barely hear him. Can barely think. “Who?”
His top lip sneers. “Ivan.”
I knew that’s what he was going to say, but my stomach still bottoms out. I hope it adds an air of authenticity to the shock I smear across my face. “What? He was—He was here? Today?”
His pale eyes narrow. “Yes. He and Francia showed up together moments before you walked out of the bathroom.”
“Then how would I know he was there?”
He stares hard at me for a long time. I hold my breath until, finally, Mikhail turns away, though he keeps a hand on my arm. He leads me to the waiting car and herds me into the backseat.
I feel the distance growing between Ivan and me. It hurts, like a chain set into my ribcage with fishhooks.
I ignore the ache. At least Mikhail isn’t interrogating me anymore.
But the moment he closes his door, he’s on me again. His fingers are clenched around my forearm with bruising force and I can’t twist away.
“Ow! You’re hurting me.”
“You’ll suffer worse than this,” he croaks, “if you ever so much as breathe the same air as Ivan Pushkin again.”
“You’re the one who made me come here for lunch! I would have stayed home if you hadn’t made me go.”
He scowls, but there’s no denying that’s exactly how it went this morning.
“If you’re so worried about everyone knowing I belong to you, why don’t you just get me a dog collar?” I add sarcastically. “You could put your name and address on the tag in case I get lost.”
“A leash might not be such a bad idea. Disobedience should be punished.”
My stomach turns. The way he talks about me like I’m barely human is terrifying.
But I can use this.
“I don’t know if I’d even mind a leash,” I mumble. “Then maybe women like Lucy wouldn’t give me so much shit.”
His anger gutters out. “What did Lucy say?”
That I’m an idiot for giving up Ivan.
She wasn’t wrong, but I can’t say that. That won’t help my argument at all.
“She noticed I didn’t have a ring on and wondered how serious we really were.” I sigh. “That’s why I went to the bathroom. I didn’t want to talk to her anymore.”
