"Thank you." I exhaled. I don’t know that it was so important for me to have him believe me and not see me as some kind of villain, but it was.
"But Katrina?" He pushed off the wall. "He cares about you. More than he should if this is some sort of agreement. More than is probably smart for him, seeing that you still work for him. So whatever this is, whatever happens—don't break him. He's had enough of that in his life. He doesn’t need someone else to let him down."
He walked away then, leaving me standing in the hallway with my shoes in my hand and guilt churning in my stomach.
What am I doing?
I made it to my room without seeing anyone else. Locked the door and leaned against it, trying to breathe. Mikhail knew. He knew I'd spent the night in Olek's room. Knew something was happening between us. And he'd looked at me with concern and respect and asked me not to hurt his friend. My boss. The man who was paying me to fuck him. The man I was absolutely, catastrophically falling for.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Same face. Same body. But I felt different. Dirty in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the lie. Because Mikhail had been kind. Had treated me like I mattered, like my feelings mattered. And I had been lying to him. To everyone.
I showered and dressed for work, moving on autopilot. Put on my uniform, tied my hair back, became the head maid again instead of the woman who'd just swallowed her boss's cum. The woman who was fifty-three days away from walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to her.
When I made it downstairs, Elena was already in the kitchen making coffee.
"There you are," she said. "I was starting to worry. You okay? You look exhausted."
"Just didn't sleep well," I lied.
Another lie to add to the collection.
"Well, drink some coffee. We've got a full day." She handed me a mug. "Oh, and Mr. Sidorov left a note. Wants to see you in his study at noon. He sure has been asking for you a lot more. I hope that’s good."
My stomach flipped. "Did he say why?"
"Nope. Just said to make sure you were there." She grinned. "Maybe he's finally going to give you that raise. God knows youdeserve it. He’s always demanding something from you. This place has never looked or smelled better, and still he asks more of you. You deserve more money for what you do."
"Maybe," I said, feeling guilty.
But I knew what he really wanted. Me. Always me. And God help me, I wanted him too. Contract or no contract. Fifty-three days or forever. I was completely, utterly his. And I had no idea how I was going to survive walking away. Because I’d debated trying to figure out a way to stay, but there was no way that I could continue to work here for him after the ninety days were over. I couldn’t handle seeing him with other women.
There was no way I wanted to see that. At … all. It’d only been five weeks, but when you were with someone everyday knowing this as intimately as we were, it felt a lot heavier than casual. Maybe I needed to put some space between us.
Katrina
The guest house was on the far side of the property, past the gardens and the pool that had been drained for winter. It was smaller than the main house—only six bedrooms—but it still required the same level of meticulous care.
Especially now, with Olek's Christmas gathering coming soon.
I'd been scrubbing the master bathroom for the past hour, headphones in, lost in the rhythm of work. This was my favorite part of the job—when I could just clean and not think. Not worry about contracts or feelings or the fact that I was falling for a man I had to leave. The tile gleamed under my cloth. The fixtures sparkled. Everything perfect, just how Olek liked it.
Olek. I checked my phone out of habit—12:47 PM. My heart stopped.
Noon. His study. Fuck.
I'd completely forgotten. I yanked out my headphones and scrambled to my feet, my knees protesting from kneeling so long. Maybe I could still make it. Maybe he'd understand. The bathroom door slammed open. Olek stood there, and the look on his face made my blood run cold.
"Hi," I said weakly. "I can explain."
"You stood me up." His voice was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that preceded violence.
"I lost track of time. I was cleaning and it slipped my mind."
"I waited for you." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Locked it. "For forty-five minutes, I waited in my study like an idiot while you were out here doing what exactly? Avoiding me?"
"No, I wasn't."
"Weren't you?" He moved closer. "You've been distant all morning. Wouldn't look at me at breakfast. And now you miss our appointment?"
