Page 14 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

That's the only explanation for why she'd be leaving his penthouse at this hour.

Before I can decide what to do with that information, headlights sweep across the street as Russ's SUV pulls up to the curb.

He gets out, and I see the exact moment he notices her.

His entire body goes still, his eyes locking onto her face with an intensity that tells me everything I need to know.

He's fucked her too.

Our eyes meet across the hood of his SUV, and I see my own realization reflected back at me.

We don't need words.

We've been doing business together long enough to read each other instantly. The girl we've both been with has apparently been with all three of us.

She looks between us, and I watch the color drain from her face as she realizes we're together and know each other.

Her eyes go wide with something that looks like panic, and before either of us can say a word, she's walking quickly down the street toward the parking garage.

"Wait," Russ calls out, but she doesn't stop. She doesn't even look back.

We watch her disappear around the corner, and the silence stretches between us.

"Well," Russ finally says, his voice carefully neutral. "This is going to be an interesting fucking meeting."

I push off the SUV and head toward the building entrance. "Let's go."

The elevator ride up to Nick's penthouse is silent. Russ stands on one side of the elevator, I stand on the other, and neither of us says a word.

But I can feel the tension radiating off him, the same tension that's coiling in my own gut.

When the elevator doors open, Nick is waiting in his entryway, already dressed in fresh clothes. He takes one look at our faces and his expression shifts, becoming more guarded.

"We have a problem," I say without preamble.

Nick leads us into his office, a room dominated by a massive desk and walls lined with books that I know he's actually read. We settle into chairs, and the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension.

"The girl who just left..." I start, keeping my voice level and professional. "Marla. I've been with her."

Russ leans back in his chair, his jaw tight. "So have I. Two weeks ago."

Nick's expression doesn't change, but I see something flicker in his eyes. "Tonight," he says simply.

The silence that follows is heavy. We're all thinking the same thing, running through the implications, assessing what this means for business, the merger, and the delicate balance of power we've been trying to establish.

"She approached you?" I ask Russ.

"I approached her. At the Ivory Wolf." He pauses. "Where did you meet her?"

"Same place," Nick says.

"Two weeks ago for me," I add. "Also at the Ivory Wolf."

Nick's fingers drum once on the arm of his chair, the only sign of agitation he's showing. "So she's been systematically working her way through all three of us."

"Looks like it," Russ mutters.

I'm running through scenarios in my head, trying to figure out what her angle is.