“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you what I see.” She takes my knight off the board and looks at Bella’s crumpled panties on my desk. “You’re falling for her.”
“I’m not falling for her.”
“You are.” Her voice is gentle now. “And you’re terrified that she won’t fall for you back.”
“Ican’tfall for her,” I snap. “Not after what her brother did.”
“Her brother is dead, Slavochka. Don’t make her pay the price for his crimes.” She picks up the white queen and places it three spaces away from my king. “Checkmate.”
“I—”
“Need to eat.” She’s already moving toward the door. “I expect to see you in the dining room within the hour.”
“I’ll be out soon.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “Let me put away the pieces first.”
Ludmilla pauses at the doorway and looks back at me with concern and resignation in her gaze. But if there’s any final words of wisdom she means to impart on me, she keeps them to herself.
Instead, she just nods and walks away, leaving me in deafening silence.
I stare at Bella’s panties on my desk, at Nico’s message on my phone, and at the darkness pressing against the windows.
Your fiery PR agent has already agreed to come.
I need to call her.
21
BELLA
The window isopen and a soft breeze is blowing in from outside while I watch Anthony color.
But sweat slicks down my side, making my shirt cling to my back, and my mind is somewhere else.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened this morning.
You’re going to show me.
Being stripped by Slava and then being made to spread my pussy to him on his desk while I dripped onto the surface was humiliating.
And unfortunately, it was also the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
I had to bite back the moan tickling my throat. Even now, my pussy clenches at the memory of it all, and I can’t stop the burst of pleasure fluttering through myself when I squeeze my thighs together.
I didn’t want him to just look. Maybe that was why I kept tempting him throughout the day.
Disappointingly, he remained completely professional.
And frustratinglyappropriate.
Five years of grief, planning, and using my hatred for him like a lifeline, now my body wants nothing more than to be fucked senseless by that Russian murderer.
I sigh, maybe a little too loudly, and Anthony looks up from his coloring book.
"Aunt Bella?" he asks.
"Yes, peanut?"
"What's your favorite color?"
