Page 46 of My Ex’s Dad

“So you may as well take me again. Right?” She grins.

“Wrong.” I shove her away. “I am not taking you.”

Just like Roman is prone to do, she throws a fit and growls. Pure frustration shows on her face as she pants at me and steadies herself after my rough push. “You are so fucking cold, Anton. You’ve got ice in your blood.”

I watch her as I pull out my phone. She can think I’ll humor her, but this is it. She’s pushed her luck too many times to count.

“You’re impossible,” she hisses. “So fucking aloof. It’s impossible to get anything from you!”

I stare her down without emotion as I lift my phone to my ear. “Remove Elena from the property,” I direct the head of security, who apparently let her in. “She is banned from accessing Sokolov territory. Effective immediately.”

She sucks in a deep breath. “What?”

I lower my phone, wishing this finally felt like a victory. I divorced her decades ago, but it’s taken an eternity to cut her completely out of my life. My tolerance has run out.

“You can’t mean that!” she accuses as the door opens and guards enter. “Anton, you can’t mean that!”

I nod at the men who grab her arms. Her coat falls, but even the sight of her body fails to get a single reaction out of me.

“Anton, you can’t—Let me go!”

She screams and protests, fighting the guards who carry her out.

The last man takes her coat, and when the door shuts behind them, I heave out a sigh.

Later, staring at the ceiling in bed, one contrast keeps returning to me: Elena always wanted something from me, while Liliana fights to owe me nothing. That difference is getting harder to ignore.

Her streak of avoiding me has an end, though.

Because as I consider making an appearance at this gala, I know I’ll be showing up with her on my arm. I smile, trusting my plan to get her there. A foolproof strategy takes shape in my mind.

I will have her again.

And I won’t lose her this time.

I eventually drift off to sleep with a smile on my lips.

19

LILIANA

The weeks have blurred by since I found out I’m pregnant, but the stress taking over my life never lets up. It doesn’t get easier with time. Instead, as I notice more and more small changes in my body, I worry about how I’ll be a single mother and keep this new life safe from Sokolov control. The longer my parents stay away from the bakery, one medical complication after another, the more I dread whether I can keep this place running and someday turn a profit.

No other loan payments are due. And Markus hasn’t been around to harass us about renegotiating the terms. Yet the bottom line is as dismal as ever.

The only way I almost succeed in reducing the fear of the future is by throwing myself into the delivery plans. Jenni and I work ourselves to the bone getting the service ready. It’s been slow to take off, but I’m hopeful that in this day and age of everyone expecting the convenience of things being delivered rather than picked up, we can make this last and bring in more money quicker.

I’m wrapping up the last of the cleanup one afternoon, lost in thought, when Rob says someone’s at the door.

I glance up and scowl at Roman standing on the other side of the glass door. I huff out a breath and shake my head.

He doesn’t get the hint, escalating to knocking on the door. Loudly.

“Want me to call the cops or something?” Rob offers.

“No.” Reading the look on his face, I realize Roman won’t give up so easily, so I set the rag on the counter beside the sink and go to the door. I unlock it but leave the chain attached. Through the two-inch gap, I raise my brows.

“You’re not going to let me in?” he demands.