“Good to hear,” Konstantine said.“We will run over several business matters in the morning.I need your help with a project.”
He directed this at Mikhail, who nodded acceptance, despite not wanting to stand between father and son.It was apparent Pavel resented Mikhail’s presence.He was brightness and sunshine in front of his father, but the moment the older man left the room, he made no secret of his hatred.
Mikhail would never display his soft belly to this man.He recognized the streak of cruelty in him and the avarice glowing in his eyes.The son wanted ownership of everything his father had earned.Easy to see his weaknesses, his greedy nature.
Mikhail would avoid Pavel and his associates and watch his back in their company.
“What time?”the son asked.“I should be there.”
Konstantine smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes.“Ah, but I have an important job for you.I need you to check the progress at the Plaza build and hire a crew to break ground on the Ignor project.”
“I can do that.”The son straightened, the resentment fading from his florid face.He’d be handsome if he controlled his drinking.Mikhail had watched the inroads the man had made on the whisky bottle.He had a decent tolerance, which suggested he drank to excess.
“I want a report of your progress tomorrow night or the next morning.This project must stay on track.That means you’ll need to hire an experienced crew and push them to get the required results.”
“No problem.”The son ate the remaining part of his meal with gusto, but Mikhail noted the flicker of relief in Konstantine.The son didn’t, but Mikhail didn’t make the mistake of underestimating him.A cornered rat fought viciously.
Now, hours later, Mikhail wondered exactly what Konstantine wanted of him.He stared into the darkness, facing the window, cracked open to let in the fresh air.Whatever it was, his decision weighed heavily on the older man.
A creak in the passage outside his bedroom had Mikhail’s senses alert.He froze, hearing nothing but the tiger snarling, the inaudible sound one of warning.Mikhail slipped from his bed and hesitated before stuffing his pillow under the covers and making it seem as if he were asleep.He didn’t analyze the instinct, merely following intuition before sliding deep into the shadows.
The creaking came again, this time right outside the door.Mikhail watched the handle go down and the door open.A figure dressed in black, a hood concealing their face, hovered in the doorway.Mikhail’s mouth thinned.Of course, it was as cliche as it sounded.He was in the midst of a soap opera and, worse, had no freaking clue how he’d managed the feat.
Mikhail watched, listened.Waited.He analyzed with each of his senses and came up with a possible identification.Pavel or perhaps one of his friends.A knife appeared in the figure’s right hand, the silver blade catching the light shining through a skylight.
Okay, one question answered.They weren’t here to discuss the coming day.The figure crept toward the bed.He inhaled cautiously, casting out his senses for information.
His mouth dropped open, and it wasn’t to open his receptors to better gauge the scent.It was the shock.Disbelief in his conclusion.
The figure halted for a long moment before a burst of speed took them to the bed.They raised their weapon and plunged it into the pillow with a harsh grunt.
“Wife, are you looking for someone?”The astonishment and bewilderment at the discovery of the intruder still rippled through him.
She whirled, yanking up the knife in one seamless action.He flicked on the light, not to see her better, but so there was no misunderstanding from her side.He wanted her to see his anger.
She glanced from him to the bed and back.
“Still very much alive,” he said drily, “but my pillow is a goner.”
Her moan of distress didn’t move him.He wanted answers.He deserved them, dammit.
“Care to explain why my wife is trying to murder me in my bed?I can’t recall doing anything to upset you, and surely if I had, your father or brother would’ve come after me?”
A tear rolled down her cheek.“I don’t want a husband.”
“Then divorce me.There’s no need to resort to violence.”
“I can’t,” she snapped and roughly swiped at her damp cheek.“I tried to talk papa out of this idea.Marriage to you.”
Mikhail scrutinized her, wary in case she carried a concealed weapon.“You must’ve accepted my proposal.”
She laughed, the sound holding bitterness and not a shred of humor.“My father wants you to run the business.He admires your strength, and your principles are important to grow his legacy.He has always admired intelligence and business nous in others.Males, at least.Who does he think was doing all the grunt work, the backroom admin and cogwheel stuff that makes a business work?It wasn’t his stupid son.No, it was me.I’m qualified with a degree in accountancy and business, but all I’m good for is marrying and popping out grandchildren.Males, of course.”
Mikhail studied the passion on her face.The determination.Clearly, she wasn’t lying about her talents, and her fury made sense if she was working to support Konstantine in his sickness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?I’m a reasonable man and value each person—male or female—for their skills.”
A derisive snort escaped her.“You’re a man.You want the same as my father—for me to have children to secure your legacy.I’m a possession rather than a partner.”
