Page 58 of His Contract Queen

His hair is slightly mussed as though he must have run his hands through it more than once since his unexpected guest left. He leans back when he notices me, settling the tablet down before folding his hands in front of him as his gaze meets mine.

He watches me approach without speaking. His gaze tracks every step, starting from my legs, to my hips and the way the cashmere sweater clings to my chest, before returning to my face. When I finally reach his desk, it’s only then that he opens his mouth.

“A…” He pauses, visibly fighting to find the right words. “It’s complicated.”

I frown immediately. “I thought we were going to be honest with each other from now on.”

The corner of his mouth tics, though not into a smile like usual. “We are.”

I wave my hand in the air in front of me, frustration leaking into the motion. “Okay. Then who was he?”

He sighs, a long, tired sound that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest. He rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t concern you.”

My brows pull together instantly.

I watch him lean forward in his chair again and lift the tablet back into his hands. He flicks a finger over the glossy surface to wake it, punching in a code to unlock it with quick, practiced taps. I stand there for a few more seconds, waiting for him to say something else.Anythingelse. An explanation. Even a deflection would be better than this sudden wall of silence.

When he doesn’t, I’m forced to speak again.

“I know he must be part of that society you were talking about. The underground one, I mean. He certainly fit the bill with how unsettled he’d made everyone feel.”

Aleksandr’s fingers pause over the screen. “Enough, Katerina. Drop it. As I said, it doesn’t concern you.”

My shoulders tense at the use of my full name.

He almost never uses it nowadays unless he’s teasing me.

Why is he being so cryptic?

Dismissiveness and Aleksandr Volkov do not go hand-in-hand. Especially not after the barriers we’ve dropped over the past few weeks. We’ve spent nights tangled in the sheets with secrets spilling off our tongues, mornings and afternoons planning asocial murder over coffee. We’ve been honest with each other in ways neither of us has ever been with anyone else. I have more than earned my right to understand the inner workings of whatever it is he does beyond his job as Pakhan.

It isn’t as if he has to hide the dark details of his dealings. I know plenty already, enough that the remaining percentage I can guess quite accurately. There would be no reason for him to be so tight-lipped when we’ve grown closer than ever.

Unless… he’s being forced to keep me in the dark.

Dread pools in my stomach

“Did he come here to threaten you?” I ask. My voice is quieter now, but much more intent. “Is that why you won’t talk to me?”

He sighs again and sets the tablet face-down on the desk with a soft clack. “What are you looking to gain from this? Who he is and what our relationship is are irrelevant and have nothing to do with you. It ismybusiness.”

I shift on my feet, concern nagging harder now. “Well, it does if it is going to affect the plan on Friday.”

“It won’t,” he says far too quickly for my liking.

Oh, God.

All we need is outside interference taking a wrecking ball to weeks’ worth of planning. There will never be another opportunity like the one on Friday. Not one that will satisfy my need to expose my father on a large enough scale to give me the closure I want.

The Metropol gala is perfect because it’s going to be televised, every camera in the country pointed at that stage with amandatory attendance of everyone worth exposing him to. If his colleague or whatever he is came here to threaten Aleksandr into hesitating, then we’re screwed.

My heart kicks hard against my sternum with a single, violent thud that echoes in my ears.

“Aleks,” I say carefully. “If he told you to back off?—”

“He didn’t.”

“But if he implied?—”