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“You wanted to put your cards on the table, so go on, Vadim. What else?”

“Maximilian Finn told me you ran after me.”

Vadim watches me with a familiar intensity, the kind that never fails to break down my defenses. Maybe it’s time to swallow my pride, to admit to him that our reunion has shaken me, that I miss him, that I have more regrets than I know what to do with. But once again, I can’t get the words out.

When he doesn’t get a reaction, Vadim keeps pushing.

That’s so him.

“I think it was at the end of our first meeting. Apparently, you wanted to see me…”

“Stop making things up, Arcadi.”

The closer he gets to the truth, the more I push back.

“It’s King now.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

“What are you implying, Alma? Have the courage to spit it out.”

He takes a determined step toward me, but stops right in front of my desk. My heart races as he stands there motionlessly, staring at me.

“The man standing in front of me is nothing like the one I loved. Are you happy now? Is that honest and direct enough for you?”

The hurtful words I just uttered echo in my ears.

“Well done. You figured that out all by yourself?”

There is contempt in his voice. Vadim steps closer and leans forward, very slowly, so that our faces are almost touching.

“You didn’t need the people around you to help you form an opinion this time, Alma?”

His gaze burns my skin, his scent goes straight to my head, and his cockiness throws me off balance—but also turns me on. I want to pounce on him, bite his lips, run my hands through his hair, and pull him close to me. I’m longing to prove to him that I’m not who he thinks I am. I want him, plain and simple. But that’s something I’m not ready to admit to him. After what he just said, I won’t give him the satisfaction. Ever.

I jump to my feet, no longer able to stand the torture of being close to him.

“The exit is over there. Next time you have something to say to me, send your assistant. It will save us both from wasting our time.” I gesture toward the door.

“You already made me waste my time twelve years ago. It won’t happen again,” he says as he prepares to leave.

Those cruel words have the desired effect. He aimed to hurt me, to wound me, and he succeeded. As he steps through the doorway, I feel my eyes welling up. I look away so I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he hit his target so precisely. Right in the heart.

Wilson’s voice suddenly cuts in. “Mr. King, there you are! I’ve confirmed our reservation at the George V for one o’clock. Alma, will you be joining us?”

“No thank you, Joseph, I have an appointment.”

Fighting back tears, I try to look as professional as possible.

“That’s a shame,” Wilson sighs. “What could possibly make you change your mind?”

“Lancaster has a very full life. And she’s not the type to let herself be swayed,” Vadim adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Her schedule is too full, if you ask me. But I live in hope that, one day, you’ll accept one of my invitations,” my manager continues with a pathetic wink.

Discreetly, I observe Vadim’s reaction. A man is hitting on me right in front of him. A powerful man—albeit a detestable one—who is also under Vadim’s authority, and it’s neither the time nor the place for this kind of thing… but he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t flinch.

Although… maybe his jaw clenches a little, and his eyebrows draw together. Maybe the pale gray of his eyes turns stormy, even as he tries to maintain his poker face.