“Until tonight,” I chime in.
She groans in frustration.
“Yes,” she says, staring at the door hollowly. “Until tonight when I found him screwing a waitress in a hallway.”
I shake my head. It’s a truly despicable thing to do even under normal circumstances, but who the hell would do that at their own engagement party?
“And now I’m wondering,” she continues, “if it was all a lie? Was he love-bombing me? Manipulating me? It just seems like everything I knew about him is a lie.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.” I shrug. “But maybe it was. Maybe he duped you. And if that’s truly the case, it’s a good thing you’re calling off this wedding. End this cycle before it truly has a chance to begin.”
I say this all with the bravado of a man who knows what the hell he’s talking about romantically. I’ve had plenty of trysts and one-night stands, but relationships are a completely foreign entity to me. It does seem, though, that this is exactly what Alina needs to hear.
“Thank you,” she says genuinely. “Plenty of people down there are going to act like I’m crazy or that I’m throwing away this amazing fairytale relationship.”
“Fuck ’em.” I laugh. “Not literally, of course. You aren’t a pig like your fiancé.”
She actually gives me a smile at this, and it feels like one hell of an accomplishment.
Just then, the elevator stops again, this time on my floor. I move toward the door, then stop and look back at her.
She’s just so helpless, standing there with her makeup running and her chest heaving. Tonight, though, she needs a friend.
I’m not that. I’m barely more than a stranger, but I’m here and she’s distraught. I can’t just leave her like this.
“Listen, Alina,” I say quickly, putting up my hand to hold the door. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but would you like to have a drink with me?”
3
ALINA
Istare into Andrei Markov’s icy blue eyes. This whole situation is bordering on absurd. What are the chances that I would end up in the same elevator as a notorious criminal thirty seconds after I found my fiancé cheating on me?
I should tell him no. I should tell him that there’s no chance in hell that I’m going anywhere with him. Well, I would say that if I weren’t slightly terrified. That has to be why my heart is racing, right?
No, I have to be honest with myself. I’m not afraid of Andrei. I’m intrigued by him, exhilarated by him, even. I spent half the night wondering where my fiancé had disappeared to, imagining the worst. Finding the worst. It would serve him right to worry about where I went. To find me having a drink with someone dangerous.
“Yes,” I say boldly, feeling immediately better. “Should we go back down to the bar?”
It would be amazing to have Kostya catch us there. For him to see me with a much older, much more intimidating man. Hewould hate how small Andrei makes him look by comparison. The thought gives me a sharp, vindictive pleasure that makes my lips curl into another smile.
“Actually,” he says, still holding the door. “My suite is on this floor, and I happen to know the bar is well stocked.”
His words should make me rethink my decision. Having a drink with Andrei Markov in his private suite is much different than having a drink with him in public. Anything could happen.
Yet, I don’t hesitate. For the first time in my life, I ignore my anxieties and just decide on pure instinct. I nod and step toward him, following him out of the elevator.
“Okay,” I say. “That works.”
My heart is pounding wildly as I follow him down the hallway. The carpet is lush underneath my heels, expensive and clean. By comparison, I feel like an untamed animal. I don’t belong up here for a million reasons, but most of all because I’m following a man who isn’t my fiancé to his suite.
“I was here for a meeting,” Andrei explains confidently. “It was just easier to book a suite than to battle midtown traffic for several hours.”
“Sure,” I say nonchalantly, like this is a normal thing that I do all the time.
We reach his room and he pulls out a key card, swiping it to unlock the door. This feels like the point of no return. Under normal circumstances, I would never do anything this reckless. If I could be even slightly rational right now, I would thank him for his time, turn right around, and never see him again.
I could avoid a huge mistake. This could be a story I tell my closest circle of friends and no one else. The time Ialmostwent into Andrei Markov’s hotel suite.
