Page 71 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

I scoff softly. “Easy for you to say. You’re a millionaire.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “B.”

I blink. “Uh?”

“B,” he repeats, eyes glinting. “Not M. Billionaire.”

My mouth falls open. Literally drops.

He slides his hand under my chin, gently closing it with two fingers. “You never need to worry about money again, solnyshko.”

I shake my head. “I can’t just… relax because my boyfriend is wealthy. That’s not how it works.”

He doesn’t argue. Just studies me for a beat, then exhales. “This isn’t the time or place. We’ll talk about it when we leave.”

He presses a soft kiss to my temple, lingering. “For now, just breathe. Let me hold you in public for once without you looking like you’re about to bolt.”

I manage a small laugh. “Okay,” I whisper.

The MC’s voice cuts through the low hum of conversation in the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please take your seats, the program is about to begin.”

Before we can move, a man in a charcoal tux approaches, tall, silver-haired, all easy smiles. He claps Leonid on the shoulder like they’re old friends, launching into something about quarterly projections and a new venture.

I lean in close to Leonid’s ear. “I’m going to slip to the powder room before it starts.”

I ease myself into one of the stalls, wash my hands at the sink, and lean over the vanity to touch up my lipstick. I press my lips together, smooth a stray curl behind my ear.

The door opens behind me. I glance up in the mirror and freeze.

Aria.

She’s standing there in a emerald gown that hugs every curve, diamonds glinting at her throat, eyes trained on me, that same smug smile I remember too well.

For a second I think I’m hallucinating. I whip my head around so fast, it’s a miracle I don’t get whiplash. It’s really her. What is she doing here?

“Hello Laurel,” she drawls, voice dripping honeyed venom.

“Aria?” I manage, the word shaky. My fingers tighten around the lipstick tube.

She tilts her head, smile widening. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?” The question bursts out before I can stop it.

She lets out a delighted laugh. “That should be my line, don’t you think? What is someone like you doing at an event like this?”

She gestures vaguely at the room, then narrows her eyes. “And why do you look so surprised to see me? Does it have something to do with hoping you wouldn’t get caught?”

I swallow hard, throat dry. “Caught? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tsks, stepping closer, heels clicking on marble. “Don’t play me for a fool, Laurel.” She lets out a long, contented sigh. “When my mother asked me to represent her tonight, I was reluctant. These things are so boring, right?” She waves a manicured hand, dismissing the entire gala. “Oh, wait. I forgot. You wouldn’t know.”

I don’t respond. My pulse is roaring in my ears.

“Anyway,” she continues, leaning one hip against the wall beside the door. “I’m lucky I came. I had no idea showing up here would reveal something so… interesting.”

I know it the second Aria says “reveal something interesting.” She saw us. My stomach plummets.

I need to get out of here. Deny everything, anything to avoid whatever bomb she’s about to drop.