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“What about an experienced one?”
I let out an annoyed sigh. “My wife is waiting for me.”
“Your wife?” Her surprise was evident, though it faded swiftly. “Tell her to come along then.”
“Who’s supposed to come along?” Alexsei chimed in.
I hadn’t even noticed the bastard approaching with that infuriatingly stupid smirk plastered across his face.
I had no desire to linger another damn second in their presence.
Sofiya was likely getting ready to leave the party, and now was the opportune moment to make my move.
“His wife.”
“His wife?” Alexsei said, his brow shooting up.
I finished off my drink, wiped my lips, and handed the empty glass to Alexsei, a wry smile on my own lips.
“Da, my wife who’s probably wondering where the fuck I am. If you’ll excuse me.” Leaving them behind, I headed for the elevator, doubt creeping in. Months had gone by, and I couldn’t shake the thought that she might hate me for barging back into her life.
Did she miss me like I missed her?
Did she ache for me like I did for her?
Each step brought me closer to the possibility of seeing her again, of finally being in the same space. The party noise faded as I focused on just one thing—being next to her.
All I could do was hope she’d mend my shattered heart, and not turn it to dust.
Chapter
Forty-Two
“From a little spark may burst a flame.”
? Dante Alighieri
Sofiya
No. It couldn’t be him.
My heart raced as I spun around, hesitation in my step.
There he was, in a sharp Prada suit, no tie, hair pulled back in a man bun, and a hint of stubble on his cheeks.
His piercing eyes locked onto mine, an intense silence settling between us.
He is here.
Mikhaïl’s here.
The atmosphere crackled with tension as I felt every part of me pulsate under his gaze, but I couldn’t look away.
His impassive expression, the slight purse of his lips, and the prominent vein on his neck held me completely captivated. My eyes roamed over his broad shoulders, strong arms, and that chest I had once longed to touch—and still did.
Memories flooded my mind of running my fingers through his dark hair and sitting on those muscular thighs.
He looked even more attractive than he did the day I left him, months ago.
