Page 96 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

Reading the words on the screen makes it real. My chest caves in. I slide down the cabinets until I’m curled on the floor again, rocking, crying so hard I can’t breathe.

God, it hurts so much. I don’t know if I’ll survive this.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Leonid

A part of me feels like it’s being ripped out.

I watched the woman I love look at me like I’d shattered her heart into a million pieces. That look, wide-eyed, devastated, betrayed, burned itself into my brain the second our eyes met across the street.

She isn’t supposed to feel that way. She isn’t supposed to look at me like I’m the enemy. She’s supposed to look at me with love. With trust. With that soft, shy smile that only comes out when it’s just us.

The past two weeks have been fucking hell. Too much has happened.

She asked for space. I gave it to her. I understood finding out who I really am, what I do, what my world looks like… that’s not something you process in a day.

I told myself I could wait. That she’d come back when she was ready. But two weeks? Two fucking weeks without touching her, without holding her, without hearing her voice? It’s torture.

And because I can’t stay away, every night I let myself into her apartment, like a ghost, and I just watch her sleep. Creepy? Yeah. I know. But seeing her chest rise and fall, knowing she’s safe, knowing she’s breathing… it’s the only thing that quiets the storm in my head.

God. I want to be back in her apartment right now. Holding her in my arms and telling her it’s not what she thinks.

The clearing of a throat across the table yanks me back.

Lisa Gonzalez sits opposite me in the private dining room of the rooftop restaurant. She’s smiling that practiced smile women like her are taught from birth: pleasant, expectant, empty.

She’s Marco Gonzalez’s niece. The woman I’m supposed to get engaged to soon. Supposed to marry.

Marco, the bastard I was supposed to go into business with. Everything was lined up. Contracts ready. And two weeks ago, the sneaky fuck pulled the rug out at the last second: “Business only happens if you marry my niece.”

I need that partnership. The ports. The routes. The leverage. Without it, my operations bleed money and influence. So I agreed.

But I have no intention of marrying her. Because the only woman I want to be with is Laurel.

That look on her face today, God. I almost said fuck the plan. Almost walked straight across the street, grabbed her, and told her everything. The woman in the car was Marco’s niece. That the hand on her back was for show. That the whole thing is a performance to keep the alliance intact until I can dismantle Marco from the inside.

But I couldn’t. If I break character now, Marco smells weakness. And weak men get eaten.

So I looked away. Got in the car. Let her think I don’t care. I hate myself for it.

Lisa clears her throat again, more pointed this time. “Leonid? You’re miles away.”

I force my attention back to her. “Just thinking about business.”

She sighs. “Our business?”

I don’t answer. I just stare at her.

Lisa’s voice cuts through the low hum of the restaurant. “So the woman outside the office building… she’s your girlfriend, right? I recognized her from the photos on the blogs.”

I lean forward slowly, elbows on the table, eyes locking on hers.

“It’s best you keep Laurel out of your mouth.”

Lisa’s lips press into a thin line. She nods once, then drops her gaze to the linen napkin twisted in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to cause problems for your relationship.”