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The stronzo. She did it. We’re free. At last.
“No way,” I say, gasping.
A.J. scoffs. “Honey, please. It was only a matter of time. You know I’m that bitch. True, sometimes I’m the bitch that gets our asses in some serious trouble of the mafia variety. But this time, I’m the bitch who cleans up her messes. Once and for all.”
“A.J.—” I say, cutting her off. “I get it. Trust me, I’ve known for a while now that you are one bad motherfucker. Or bitch. But tell me—is it done? How did you pull it off? What do you need me to do?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute, babe. All you need to know right now is that I finally have in my hands the paperwork Camilla told me about on the day your Russian fling’s henchmen kidnapped you. And it’s juicy, Kat. We were right—the stronzo does have a secret love child. When will men learn not to think with the wrong head? You’d think that a man who came from nothing would know better than to cheat on his wife, who’s the only reason he became boss in the first place. But hey, he fucked around, and he’s about to find out. I love that for us, Kat. I really do.”
“Wow,” I say, my heart racing. “I can’t believe this is finally happening. I can’t believe this isn’t a dream. It’s about fucking time. Our luck had to turn at some point, right? Where are you, A.J.? I think you should come over right now. Should we even be discussing this over the phone?”
“I’m fine,” she says, so excited she’s almost shouting over the phone. “You’ll see me soon enough, Kitty Kat. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you—you’ll get a kick out of this. The stronzo’s secret child? It turns out he’s half-Russian! Isn’t that a riot? His name is Dmitri Ivashkov. I got boatloads of documents tying him to the stronzo. Some go back twenty-something years.”
With a gasp, I almost drop my phone. My spine straightens as I process what A.J. just told me. I touch the back of my neck as it grows uncomfortably warm.
I can’t believe it… Dmitri, the stronzo’s bastard son?
Unable to help myself, I turn around nonchalantly, desperately needing to look at Dmitri. Startled, I realize he’s standing right behind me, merely a few inches away. At some point, while I was immersed in A.J.’s news, he must’ve closed the distance between us as quietly as a cat.
Dmitri is so tall I need to lean my head back to see his face instead of being at eye level with his chest. I do so as A.J. happily—and much too loudly—carries on over the phone. As soon as I see his face, I gasp again, loudly.
Every hair on my skin stands up as my body instinctively recognizes the imminent danger. One glance at Dmitri’s pale blue eyes—the same shade as the stronzo’s, I finally notice—and I know he’s heard every single word my friend just told me.
An unfamiliar, dark look comes over Dmitri’s finely sculpted face as he reaches for me.
19
NIK
I made a grave mistake.
I was wrong.
I was so fucking wrong.
When Kat left me—not even bothering to glance back at me as she sauntered away, happily stomping my heart into a billion broken pieces—I was initially stunned and devastated.
Then, my distress gave way to anger. And my anger burned hot, boiling over and scorching everything in its warpath.
For so long, I held back, striving, for some reason, to be better than my baser nature. I denied myself the simple pleasure of surrendering to my instincts instead of worrying about pleasing a self-absorbed, untrustworthy woman. So if Kat wanted to leave me, that was fine with me. I had one less problem to worry about.
If she thought she was better than me, that was her mistake. I certainly didn’t intend to mope around the place, suffering for a woman who didn’t seem to give a fuck about what she was giving up on. Someone who couldn’t be trusted to provide you the day of the week, let alone anything of actual significance.
If Kat wanted to end things, it was my pleasure to show her the door. Her loss would be my gain, I was sure—eventually.
Good riddance, I had thought to myself.
But then, night came.
Inevitably, as the hustling and bustling around the penthouse slowed down as my house staff ended their shifts and my men left to attend to theirs, I grew restless. Even worse, when the lights were dimmed, and all the noise went away, I grew lonely. I became painfully aware of all that I was lacking. Of my neediness. Not just for any company—which could too easily be arranged, especially of the female kind. No, my need was specific and unmistakable. Unavoidable and irresistible, too. With big, blue eyes and legs that go on for miles.
Big fucking deal, I told myself then. It wasn’t the first time in my life that I craved or needed something I couldn’t have. It probably wouldn’t be the last.
So I didn’t feel as good as I thought I should after this whole break-up nonsense. Who cares? It didn’t have to mean anything unless I let it mean something.
So I turned on the news for background noise and listened to music once the TV’s cacophony started to annoy me. After that, I exercised. Then, I worked. Long story short, I handled it—as I always do.
But then, the night grew late, and invariably, I had to try to sleep, which traditionally involves going to bed. As in, the bed I shared with Kat, where every morning I watched her sleep until she woke up and offered me her lazy—and seductive—smile. It was the bed where Kat and I fucked and made love to each other. On that bed, after, we held each other, whispering inside jokes and never-before-told secrets.
