“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending his hand.
The same hand that once gave me immense pleasure. So this was the game he wanted to play? Good.
My chest twists, but I keep my smile in place. I don’t take his hand. “Nice to meet you too,” I answer, my voice steady even as my pulse pounds. I turn to Noelle, searching for her familiar warmth, and find her frowning.
She says nothing, though I catch the way her eyes flick between us. She knows something’s off. She just doesn’t know what.
I clear my throat. “How can I help?”
Before she can answer, Niko waves his knife in the air like a conductor. “Absolutely nothing. The ladies should relax. Lev and I have this under control.”
I force a smile. “Well, aren’t you two generous?”
“Always,” Niko grins.
Lev doesn’t smile. He’s back to chopping vegetables, blade sliding cleanly through the herbs. But I feel it—his eyes. They keep straying, tracing the hem of my sundress where it skims my thighs, catching on my hands as I toy with the edge of the counter, lingering on my face when he thinks I won’t notice.
I notice.
“So, Sasha…” Lev says, finally, his voice smooth but threaded with something darker. I almost drop the napkin I’ve been pretending to fold. I’m shocked he’s even speaking to me. “How long are you staying in Chicago?”
I flash him a saccharine smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Not long enough to meet assholes.”
The silence in the kitchen curdles. Noelle’s head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “Sasha!” she gasps, her voice torn between horror and disbelief.
I shrug, pretending not to care, even though my chest is tight.
Noelle doesn’t buy it. She slips her arm through mine like she’s saving me from myself and turns to Lev. “Easy on her.Some asshole clearly broke her heart. That’s why she’s lost so much weight. She’s usually the sweetest, I promise.”
Heat flares up my neck, humiliation crawling under my skin. “Noelle—” I hiss under my breath, but it’s too late.
Lev’s knife stills on the cutting board. His eyes lift, gray and cutting, pinning me in place. His brows rise ever so slightly, a slow curve of interest—or maybe challenge. “Is that the case?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild, like he’s amused and furious at the same time.
I force a bright, brittle smile, my heart hammering. “Actually, since you want to discuss it, Noelle….” I glance at her, then at Niko, before fixing my gaze squarely on Lev. “The bastard who broke my heart was a passenger. On one of my flights.”
Noelle’s brows shoot up. Niko’s brows rise, clearly intrigued.
I keep going, each word sharp enough to cut. “He decided to charm me during a layover in Milan. Showed the whole crew around like he owned the city. Then, when we got to New York, he sent a car. A dress. Shoes. And a necklace that was so expensive I didn’t even dare keep it.” My laugh is bitter. “He cooked for me himself, in some glossy penthouse, made me believe I was special.”
Noelle’s hand flies to her chest, scandalized. Niko mutters something vicious in Russian under his breath.
“And the very next morning,” I finish, voice flat, “he told me to leave. That I didn’t belong in his world. Just like that.”
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.
“That guy’s an asshole,” Niko says finally, his jaw hard. “Absolute asshole.”
“Unbelievable,” Noelle agrees, glaring as if she could stab this faceless man with her eyes. “Sasha, you deserve so much better.”
I feel my cheeks heat, but not from their sympathy. From Lev. Because he hasn’t moved, hasn’t blinked, but his grip on the knife is tighter, his jaw ticking.
He clears his throat and says evenly, “Maybe he had his reasons.”
I whip my head toward him. “Excuse me?”
His eyes catch mine, unreadable, but burning. “Sometimes…things are more complicated than they look.”
The room goes so still I can hear the sizzle of onions in the pan.
