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)
I open the flap in the counter that serves as a barrier to the area behind the counter then let it slam down once I’m through. Facing off with this brute isn’t something I want to waste a second of my time on.
“You are not the boss of me,” I shoot back, fuming. “Get out of my way!”
“I’m the boss when I say we need to—” He stops short and looks down at his phone. Grimacing, he lifts the device to answer it. “Yes, sir?”
Clearly, he’s able to listen to his boss.
I roll my eyes and sidestep him. He’s not intimidating me today. Or ever again, dammit. We’re paying on that loan as it is and that’s that.
“Hold it,” he tells me as he listens to whoever called.
“No. I’m not holding it. I’m not waiting. And I’m not standing around here listening to whatever you think you need to tell me.” I yank my arm free of his grip, daring him to touch me again.
“Move it,” I order.
He barely covers his phone. “You are going to wait,” he argues. “You and I need to discuss the terms—”
I growl and shove him with both hands. It barely moves him, but I can’t bring myself to care. The smell of his cologne turns my stomach, one more little clue that freaks me out. It’s not the first time an ordinary smell has made me want to gag.
Thoroughly frantic to grab a test and find out if I’m pregnant, or just losing my mind under all the stress, I step around him and rush out of the bakery.
14
ANTON
“Once again,” I tell the owner of the hotel where Roman caused damage from a wild all-nighter, “my apologies.”
She arches one thin brow at me and lets out a slow breath, like she doubts she can take my word for it.
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.