So I wait.
Let her pretend.
Eventually, she’ll understand something simple:
There are no secrets around me.
46
Konstantin
Arseny’s eyes are doing the thing again. That subtle widening, the barely-there twitch in his left brow. The look he reserves for financial crimes, active explosives, and whatever the hell this morning is.
“Are we really doing this?” he asks.
I sip my second coffee—black, no sugar—and nod once.
The coffee is shit. Probably because it’s the second one I’ve had since 6 a.m., and my body knows I haven’t slept. Not a minute. Not even a blink.
I spent the night watching the hallway monitor, half-expecting Bella to appear at the door like some late-night confession. Thought maybe she’d creep down the stairs in that ridiculous satin robe, whisper something about Irina or a burner phone or whatever the hell she’s hiding.
But no.
She went to bed.
Early.
Then woke up before the sun, made pancakes for the kids, braided Alya’s hair, and walked into the office likenothing happened. Like she didn’t spend yesterday vibrating with secrets.
Now she’s pretending I’m the one being weird.
I lean back in my chair and glance at the security footage Timur sent—Bella’s tracker pinged her walking Julian and Lila to school personally this morning. Men are on them. I don’t take chances.
Timur crosses the room and places a tablet down in front of me. “She took the Aston.”
“Good,” I mutter.
“She also made a smoothie. Banana, chia, almond milk.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s in the staff fridge.” Like that part personally offended him.
I grunt and rub my jaw. My stubble’s a day old, and I haven’t changed out of the shirt I wore last night. I told myself it was to look casual.
It’s not. I just forgot.
The door across the hall opens, and all three of us look up at the same time.
Bella steps out.
And—Christ—she looks like a haunted intern trying to fake confidence during a federal audit.
Her eyes are wide. Shoulders tense. Her right hand clutches her phone like it might either save her or betray her. She glances toward my office. Quick. Guilty. Looks away. Starts walking.
She walks five steps in our direction.
Stops.
Turns around and walks back toward her office.
Turns again.
