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Take that,Master.
“Too bad.” Dominik pries my nails out of his sleeve. “Arsen is already in there. He’s expecting you. I’m deep enough on his shit list as it is.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what he’s expecting. I don’t want to go in there, Dom. I don’t know how to do—” I wave an arm around to capture the general finery. “—this.The fancy clothes, the fancy people.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you look sensational.”
I catch a glimpse of myself in the floor-length mirrors that panel the lobby. The lilac fabric flows gracefully over my bump. The off-the-shoulder neckline is just low enough to display some subtle cleavage and show off the new diamonds draped around my neck.
“Fine. I will concede that I look… passable. But I don’t feel like myself.” I kick a foot out from beneath my dress, sending a barb of pain straight into my hip. “I also can’t feel my toes.”
The three-inch Ferragamo stilettos are gorgeous, but they come at a price, and I’m paying it with interest.
Dominik extends an elbow. “That’s why you’ve got me.”
“There’s no way out of this, is there?”
“Not unless you think you can run in those heels.”
With that option wildly out of reach, I loop my arm through Dom’s and let him lead me to the wolves.
The moment we walk in, gazes swivel in our direction. We meander through the room, smiling all the while looking for Arsen.
“When I see your boss,” I mumble, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
Dominik chuckles. “I’d pay good money to see that. Especially in front of this crowd.”
“Who are all these people?”
“To put it simply: nothing gets done in this city without the say-so from one of the people in this room.”
“Ah, so just a bunch of nobodies.” When I see a huge sign highlighting tonight’s cause—Kill Cancer—I jerk to a stop, my arm slipping from Dominik’s. “I thought this gala was to fund another wing of St. Francis Memorial. That’s what Arsen said.”
No mention of cancer.
I’d remember that.
“It is. A specialty wing dedicated to cancer patients.”
My jaw drops. “Did he know that?”
“Considering they wanted to name the whole damn wing after him, I’m going to assume so.”
“Why would they name the wing after him?” I ask, fearing I already know the answer.
Handsome, funny,andcuring cancer. Your classic triple threat.
“He’s footing most of the bill—but don’t tell anyone,” Dominik whispers. “He hates giving speeches. Does his best work in the shadows, our friend Arsen does.”
He also prefers to work in the shadows when it comes to his personal history, apparently.
“Do the people here know about his mom?”
I can’t imagine we’d be standing here right now if they did. The last thing he’d want is to talk about his mother all evening.
Dominik tenses. “He told you about her?”
“Polina did. A little bit, anyway. Did you get to meet her?”
