Maybe because it was too good. Like a dream so vivid you're terrified of waking up to nothing.
After Kirill left, I'd planned to see Rihanna, but Anna intercepted me in the hallway where she was directing workers moving a new carpet. She dropped what she was doing and sidled up, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Did you hear, ma'am?" Anna's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, eyes gleaming with gossip. "That old witch—oh, I mean that woman who always gave you trouble, Maggie—the nursing home fired her this morning!"
I stopped. "Fired?"
"Not just that!" Anna waved her hands excitedly. "The police showed up at the hospital. Someone reported her for cooking the books and abusing patients. When they hauled her away, she was screaming like a stuck pig. I'd bet money she's looking at serious time."
I stood frozen. Maggie had been Olga's previous caretaker. She knew things, so she sucked up to Olga constantly—though Olga always gave her the cold shoulder. After I took over, Maggie took her resentment out on me, skimming my overtime pay and dumping the worst jobs on me. I'd complained to Olga once at home. I'd even stopped Olga from sending people to crack the woman's skull open.
But apparently, I hadn't stopped someone else.
"Oh, and," Anna clearly couldn't keep secrets, "those two rich girls who trashed you—the Sterling girl's sidekick... God, this morning's news was insane. Their family business completely collapsed. The IRS and FBI raided them at the same time. Their sports cars and mansions got seized this afternoon."
My grip on my bag tightened until my knuckles went white.
In New York, there weren't many people who could dismantle a decades-old enterprise overnight.
I had to know this wasn't a coincidence.
At dinner, the food smelled incredible, but my mind was elsewhere.
I cut a small piece of steak, stealing glances at Kirill seated at the head of the table. He sipped his wine, face cold and aristocratic, impossible to read.
"Maggie... that was you, wasn't it?" I finally gave up, setting down my fork to stare at him directly. "And those two girls' families."
Olga sat to the side, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, eyes dancing between us with a knowing smile.
Kirill's hand paused mid-swirl. "Yes."
Just like that. No hesitation.
"But Kirill..." My voice rose slightly with urgency. "That's two family businesses. And Maggie didn't really do anything... maybe a warning would've been enough. Isn't this overkill?"
"Overkill?" Kirill finally looked up. He set down his glass with a sharp clink.
His gaze held nothing but absolute certainty. "They treated my wife that way. They should be grateful I've been in a good mood lately, or they'd be in five pieces at the bottom of the ocean."
My mouth opened, ready to argue. Logic said this was wrong. Destroying two families, putting so many people out of work—the retaliation was too brutal.
I should talk him down. Tell him this was too extreme. But my heart was pounding. My wife—he said it so naturally, like the whole world should know I belonged to him, that no one could touch me. That feeling of being fiercely protected—I'd never experienced it before. It made me shy and thrilled at once.
My face burned hotter. I had to look down, pretending to smooth my skirt to hide my flustered state.
"Well said!"
Madam Olga laughed suddenly. She took a delicate sip of wine and raisedan eyebrow.
"Oh, dear Harper, don't look like that." The old woman smiled warmly. "This is what Orlov men are like. If he can't repay insults to his woman a hundredfold, he doesn't deserve to sit where he sits. Kirill, you did well this time."
I sighed, picking up my fork again. "At least you could've told me first," I muttered.
Kirill's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
"You don't need to know the details of taking out trash." He cut off the topic. "Now let's talk business. Next week, once I wrap up the current projects, we're leaving."
I blinked. "Leaving? Where?"
