Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
It’s not like I’ll ever see Roman again.
Or Anton.
Once I leave this mansion, I’ll arrange to cover the cost of his car repair through Viktor.
I shake my head. “So yes, the regret is solely mine.”
Going forward, I’ll never let a man keep me trapped in a rat race of gaining approval ever again.
10
ANTON
“Iwon’t lecture you,” I tell Liliana as a timer goes off in the kitchen. “But from my experience, regret is never worth holding on to.”
She turns from me, going to open the oven door. “I made a casserole, if you’re interested.”
I stand and laugh. “Interested? I’ll riot if I don’t get a taste of whatever’s been driving me insane all night.”
She laughs, seeming freer now that the topic has shifted from Roman to food. I’m not convinced that she’s done with the conversation though. It almost seems like she’s eager to vent and rant about how my son treated her.
She is better off without him.
I sometimes wish I could claim the same. That I could be better off without him in my life, lurking in the background as a lazy mooch. That I’m supposed to hand him all the power and wealth I’ve earned.
“Do you want to eat in here?” She looks at the island, where I had the delight of eating breakfast with her. It seems like a lifetime ago. Lunch came and went while I was on calls. She was tied up on the phone elsewhere too, so I hardly care where we eat now. Skipping a meal left me off balance, and I’m eager to sit down with her.
“We can take it to the dining room,” I say.
I help her bring things in, glad that I have her to myself. The staff has retired for the evening. Viktor is busy working out in the gym at the other side of the house, and that means he’ll probably get a pre-made protein shake like usual afterward.
“Did Roman ever treat you right?” I ask, too curious not to return to that topic.
She gives me a droll look. “He got my attention in the beginning, enough to encourage me to date him.”
We settle in to eat, and instead of leaving me to wonder how my son could be stupid enough to screw up with a woman like her, she explains. Between bites, she paints the picture of an idiot who never knew what he had.
“We met right after I graduated from culinary school.” Her smile turns sweet, proud even. “Top of the class. My parents own a bakery and it’s been my goal to run it after they retire. If they retire.”
Interesting choice of words.
She’s making it sound like her parents might be working until they die. Mine did, but it’s different. A rival killed my mother and father in a power play. That was when I became pakhan, just twenty-two years old.
As old as Liliana probably is now.
“He noticed me at a party. My best friend”—she sours with a cringe—“my former best friend introduced us and he said all the right things and made all the right moves.”
“He thinks he can be charismatic,” I say.
She nods in agreement. “But it’s so phony. It took me a while to realize it.”
Instead of pressing on why she stayed with him so long, and it sounds like she did because she never had the time to think about breaking up while picking up more hours for her parents, I ask about her. Where she went to school. How old she is. Everything and anything.
When I realize that Roman was her first boyfriend, and she lost her virginity to him without even enjoying it, I shake my head in disgust. “He doesn’t get this from me.”
She almost chokes on the sip of water she just took. “I know.”
I smile, pleased that she has no issue about speaking so frankly, unafraid to own up to what we did last night.
“I meant his personality. His laziness and lack of ambition, even with his own girlfriend.” I shrug. “His mother spoiled him rotten, and I have no fucking clue what to do with him.”
“He takes spoiled to a whole new level,” she mutters. Her pissy attitude doesn’t turn me off. The fact that she doesn’t hold back, that she talks so openly about Roman’s flaws, intrigues me. When I do press on why she stayed, knowing what he was, she challenges me and accuses me of making excuses for him.
“Are you implying it’s my fault that he cheated?” she asks as she sets her glass down hard. It doesn’t break, but some spills out.
“Not at all.”
“Because that’s the way you’re making it sound.” She narrows her eyes.
It shocks and excites me—this woman thinking she can talk to me like I’m just anyone. This gorgeous bombshell showing no fear or hesitation because I’m a ruthless Bratva boss.