"Get out." I turned away from her, voice ice-cold. "Now. Get out of my study immediately."
She didn't move. Just looked at me calmly.
"What are you waiting for?" I raised my voice. "I told you to get out!"
"Can I take off the necklace?"
"No. You have to wear it."
"But—"
"Get out!" I spun around and roared.
She straightened her spine and walked toward the door.
At the doorway, she stopped without turning back, just said softly:
"Good night, Kholod."
Damn. Damn woman.
I slammed my fist on the desk, scattering papers everywhere.
I walked to the liquor cabinet, poured myself a vodka, and knocked it back hard.
Chapter Ten
Kholod
Two in the afternoon. I glanced at my watch.
"Boss, the Eastern European arms dealer accepted our terms and ended the meeting early."
"Good." I kept it brief. "Cancel everything else today."
As our convoy pulled into the manor grounds, movement behind the greenhouse glass caught my eye. I stepped out and headed straight there. The moment I pushed open the door, warm air laced with tea fragrance enveloped me.
Sunlight streamed through the glass panels, casting dappled shadows across the floor. Noelle and Isabella Vance sat side by side on the sofa near the fireplace. Noelle held a thick fashion magazine while Isabella pointed excitedly at some page.
What surprised me most was Noelle—her head tilted slightly, lips curved in the kind of relaxed smile I'd never seen before.
My brow furrowed deeply. An inexplicable irritation churned in my chest. I'd never liked outsiders roaming freely through this place.
They sensed my arrival.
"Mr. Morozov!" Isabella practically sprang to her feet, face lighting up with delight. "You're back! What perfect timing!"
Noelle's smile vanished as if someone had flipped a switch. In its place came the familiar coldness and wariness I knew so well. She rose slowly, closing the magazine and letting it hang at her side.
"Miss Vance." I nodded curtly, but kept my eyes locked on Noelle. "When are you leaving?"
The air froze.
"I... I was just about to say goodbye," she struggled to maintain that sweet tone. "Just came to see Noelle. Haven't seen her in ages—I missed her so much..."
"Kholod! Isabella is my friend. How could you treat her like this?" Noelle stepped protectively in front of Isabella, fire blazing in her eyes.
Friend? In this world, true friends were rarer than roses in the Arctic. And the way she defended this so-called "friend" particularly grated on me.
