Page 33 of My Ex’s Dad

I add another zero to the amount I’m writing a check for. Biting my lip and holding in a growl of frustration, I tamp it all down and smile at her. “Sincerely.”

At this rate I’ll be apologizing to the whole world for Roman. I’m sorry I let the pattern go on this long, and even sorrier that I kept pretending he might somehow grow into the heir I needed.

The woman nods once, and as soon as she takes the check, I breathe easier. Cleaning up after Roman’s messes is nothing new. I’ve done it often enough to know when to care and when not to. This hotel owner is an ally, the kind of friend worth keeping for a future favor. It pays to keep alliances and partnerships intact. But sooner or later, Roman’s behavior will drag me past the point of no return.

“He’s digging himself into a hole,” Viktor quips as we exit the building.

I glare at him in agreement as I take my phone out.

“Sooner or later, he’ll realize your patience is limited,” he adds, matter-of-fact.

“He’s already exceeded it,” I snap, calling Markus. He’s usually able to rein Roman in. I’ve already upped his bonuses for practically babysitting him, but he’s unable to pull off something impossible.

I slide into the backseat, waiting for Markus to pick up. Closing my eyes for a second, I try to shake off the fatigue clawing at me, the headache spreading from the tension that never leaves. It’s been so long since I felt like I could fucking breathe and just relax.

With her.

Liliana.

She was the one who finally let me relax for a night or two. Just by being there, she got me to let loose and stop thinking about work for those couple of nights at the vacation home upstate.

It’s been so long since then. I haven’t seen her, yet she still lingers in my mind. Thinking about her has become a habit, and I keep telling myself a little more time will make her fade. Weeks have passed, but it seems I need months to forget her. How tight she was as she took me so deep. How gorgeous she looked, flushed and trembling as she came. How⁠—

“Yes, sir,” Markus answers.

Sounds come from his end of the call, almost too loudly.

“I expect an immediate update on⁠—”

“Hold it,” he orders, his voice deadly.

I pause, brow furrowing. There’s no fucking way he’s talking to me, not like that. But I’m cut off again, not because he speaks, but because someone else is nearly shouting from his end of the line.

“No. I’m not holding it. I’m not waiting,” a woman declares heatedly. “And I’m not standing around here listening to whatever you think you need to tell me.”

My heart hammers faster.

Because it’s not just any woman ranting at him.

It’s Liliana.

“Move it,” she orders.

I clutch my phone tighter, totally engrossed.

This isn’t in my head. It’s really her. It’s Liliana talking to Markus, at this moment.

“Mark—”

I fail to get his full name out.

“You are going to wait,” he argues with her. His voice is muffled, like he might be covering the mouthpiece. “You and I need to discuss the terms⁠—”

A scuffle sounds. I lean forward, straining to listen to every second.

“Fuck.” Markus mutters.

“Markus!” I swallow hard, caught up with this rush.