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The thought of an ocean separating us again was fucking unbearable.
“As soon as she’s ready to come back with me.”
Three gentle knocks on the door interrupted us.
We looked up to see Jade Whitenhouse peeking her head through the doorway.
She greeted us with the fakest smile I’d ever seen and apologized for the interruption.
Dressed in a snug, vibrant red mid-dress that left little to the imagination, her cleavage peeking slightly at the top, long black hair cascading straight down her shoulders, a large white bow clip adorning her head, and her blue eyes accentuated with dark eyeliner, she looked like she’d stepped out of a hentai scene.
Angelo hated her, or so he claimed.
When I asked why he hadn’t fired her already, he only responded with, “She’s good at what she does.”
My ass.
They were probably fucking, or she must have something on him.
I’d bet twenty grand on the latter.
“We need to discuss the transfer of Cupid and Psyche to the Louvre,” she directed at Angelo. “Seems those statues took their sweet time coming back, and now they’re feeling generous enough to ask for a little extra to cover the delay.” Her eyes moved casually between us, and she added, “Of course, I can swing by some other time if that suits you better, boss.”
Angelo sighed.
“Don’t bother. I’m done here,” I said, rising from my seat and heading for the door.
I shook Angelo’s hand before heading towards the door.
As I walked through the hallway, Jade shouted, ‘It was nice to see you, Volk! Don’t worry, I’m sure Sofiya will come around.’”
Damn it, now we were the subject of everyone’s gossip in this fucking city.
Chapter
Forty-Four
“Don’t be pushed around by the fears in your mind. Be led by the dreams in your heart.”
? Roy T. Bennett
Sofiya
As I stood in line at my favorite Moroccan food truck, my mind was all over the place. The delicious smell of spices filled the air, momentarily taking me away from my thoughts and into the bustling streets of Marrakech.
The conflict inside me was like the mix of flavors in the olive chicken sandwich I was about to devour—spicy, intense, and a little messy.
Seeing Mikhaïl in New York after so much time apart caught me completely off guard. I never expected his presence—him showing up in my office, making love to me by the window, and the breathless moment near my apartment where he professed his desire for me and only me.
For months, I’ve been fighting to restore some sense of normality to my life. I’ve poured my heart into trying to erase his memory, to carry on with life’s daily grind, and to dive into ambitious dreams that would replace those lingering images of him.
After last night, a part of me just wanted to give in and fall back into his arms because they’ve become my safe haven. But there’s another part of me, insecure and scared, terrified he might lose interest in me again and ask me to leave like before.
I was still annoyed with myself for not holding back and rushing into intimacy without giving us a chance to have the much-needed conversation that had been hanging over us for months.
You are breathtaking.
You look like a fucking Goddess
