I meet his gaze directly. “Let them be disappointed.”
“They’re expecting the usual Konstantin Belov. The one who brings a different woman each time. The one who never brings the same date twice.”
“So I’ll surprise them,” I reply, unbothered. “Change is good for business.”
Arseny’s eyebrows shoot up. “You think she’s—”
“One more word,” I cut him off, voice dropping to that quiet register that’s made men wet themselves, “and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out myself.”
Arseny’s smirk dies a quick, brutal death.
But the bastard recovers fast—too fast—dragging a calloused finger across his lips in a slow, mocking zip.
25
Bella
The dressing room is the size of my office, but right now, it feels about as spacious as a coffin lined with couture. I’m wedged between a rack of high-end gowns and a velvet chaise that’s probably never been sat on, clutching my phone like it’s the last connection to civilization.
Elena’s face pixelates on my screen, her dark curls piled into a messy bun, the neon lights of Tokyo casting a pink glow across her smirk.
“Miss me?” she says.
“Are youevercoming back?” I whisper-yell, eyeing the curtain like it might suddenly be yanked open by one of Konstantin’s ever-present, terrifyingly silent bodyguards.
“Aw, is wifey lonely?” She grins, sipping what looks like a fluorescent green smoothie. “Two more weeks, babe. Unless you want me to stage a prison break?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” I press my forehead against the nearest silk-covered wall. “I just need you here to tell me I’m not losing my damn mind.”
“Oh, you absolutely are,” she says cheerfully. “But in the hottest way possible. Now, spill. Why are you whispering like you’re in a spy thriller?”
I glance at the curtain again. “Because I’m currently trapped in a private shopping suite at Bergdorf’s with a man who just bought out the entire store because Idaredto frown at a dress.”
“Wait. Konstantin is shopping with you?” Her perfectly threaded eyebrows shoot up.“The same man who, last week, you described as ‘a sentient brick wall with a Rolex’?”
“The very same.” I exhale sharply. “And before you ask—no, I don’t know what demon possessed him today, but he’s beenhovering. Likepersonallyvetoing necklines. It’sweird.”
“Weird or hot?”
“Terrifying.”I yank at the zipper of a gown that’s currently trying to suffocate me. “He told the stylist that slit was ‘too high’ and thedécolletagewas ‘distracting.’”
“Oh, my God.” Elena cackles. “He’s jealous.”
“He’scontrolling,” I correct, finally wrestling the dress off and collapsing onto the chaise in my underwear. “There’s a difference. And I just survived a five-course lunch where Konstantin ordered for me inRussianlike I’m a toddler who can’t be trusted with cutlery.”
“Wait, back up.” Elena’s voice sharpens. “He took you to lunch? Like, a date lunch?”
“No, like a ‘you’re going to the Summit tonight, try not to embarrass me’ lunch,” I hiss, eyeing the seamstress lurking outside the curtain like a hawk with a tape measure. “Which, by the way, is apparently Los Angeles’ most exclusive real estate gala. Only the people who actually run this city behind the scenes. Billionaires parading their newest acquisitions, powerbrokers closing eight-figure deals over champagne, and, of course, men like Konstantin showcasing their most valuable… assets.” I pause meaningfully. “Wives only.”
“Uh-huh. And the fact that he’s taking you to some super-exclusive underworld gala tonight—what’s that, if not possessive?”
I groan. “It’s a power move. Wives only get invited to this thing, Elena.Wives.Not mistresses, not girlfriends. Which means he’s either trying to piss someone off or—”
“Or he wants people to know you’re his.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Face it, babe. Your mob husband has a crush.”
“He has acontract,” I mutter, but my traitorous pulse jumps, anyway.
Outside the curtain, a deep voice rumbles,“Bella.”
