The Master (The Game Maker #2)(43)

I exhaled. “I’m sorry I was criticona. Judgmental.” I’d once read on a T-shirt: The judgiest people are the ones who’ve lived the least. “But for the record, I did not set out to get pre?ada.”

“It’s still an option, you know. There’s always next month.”

The idea nauseated me. “Ivanna, when I thought I could be pregnant, it was like someone punched me in the throat. I never cry in front of others, but I was about to. I kept telling myself Morning-after pill, morning-after pill like a prayer.”

“So that’s how you addressed it?”

“No, a doctor came to give me a shot and insert an IUD—to be really, really sure. Each method is ninety-something percent certain. Add those two together and it equals: one paranoid Russian. Still, I was relieved. Getting knocked up would be one of the stupidest things I could do. Sevastyan must think I’m stupid.”

I defensively pulled my knees to my chest. For some reason, it was imperative to me that he not believe that. “Why wouldn’t he? I guzzled bottles of alcohol and let down my guard with a strange man. I never let down my guard. I won’t ever again.”

“Apparently, he let his guard down as well. Have you ever considered why he’s so paranoid? He’s a mobster AND a politician—is there any man more incapable of trust? Surely he’s learned that faith in another can invite punishment.” Only always! “Perhaps you have an IUD right now because Sevastyan wanted to enjoy you regularly?”

I narrowed my eyes. It wasn’t as if I had asked for the thing. “Then maybe he’s less paranoico—and more manipulador—than I’d thought.”

“Speaking of manipulative, you should know, Sevastyan’s man of affairs called me, asking questions about you.”

Vasili! “What did you tell him?”

“As little as possible, because that’s obviously what you’ve been doing—and it’s working! Count on me not to deviate from this plan. Though I don’t know much anyway. I told him that you don’t have a car, and you sing a lot. I informed him that when you eat one of those cuppy containers of flan, you are in heaven and smile for the rest of the day. I also mentioned that you adore me and have promised always to take care of me.”

I exhaled with relief. “Thank you.”

“So, what’s it like between you and Sevastyan? Since you’re essentially living together?”

“We fight a lot.” After sex, as soon as we left the bed—or the couch or the shower or the floor—he would grow ice cold again.

Once we’d recovered from our frenzied f*ck yesterday, he’d dragged me into the study, dumping me into a seat in front of a computer. No Internet access, of course. “Make yourself useful.” A fifteen-page document in Spanish had been pulled up on the screen. “Translate it, then print a copy. You’ve got three hours.”

The document had been about the Panama Canal. I began to suspect he was in Miami to take advantage of the upcoming canal expansion. Interesting.

Three hours later, I’d found him in the living room on the phone with his brother Dmitri.

Whenever he talked to his younger brother, his mood plummeted, and nothing ever seemed to get resolved. Yet he talked to the man a lot. Sometimes I could even hear Dmitri yelling, but Sevastyan never raised his voice or got angry in return. If I were Máxim’s girlfriend and I gave a damn about him, I’d try to limit those calls.

When I’d dropped my printed report onto his lap, he’d ended the call. As if it were a chore to read, he’d exhaled and turned the cover sheet to the first of fifteen identical pages:





I’d turned on my heel and sauntered back to my room.

Ivanna said, “It can’t all be bad.”

“No, it’s not. Sometimes, I like it here with him.” Between Sevastyan and the floors of gun-toting mafiya guards, I felt safer than I had in years. Up in his tower, I was getting used to luxury, to not scrubbing toilets, to gourmet food, to views that went on forever. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a changed woman—skin glowing, eyes clear, dark circles gone.

I was officially recharged and heading toward . . . bored. I hadn’t been bored in three years!

I’d hit the penthouse library (because ten thousand square feet of space meant it had a library). I’d finished novel after novel by the pool. Then I’d discovered on-demand video. I’d found a yoga class. Somehow I got through it. I would never scoff at yoga again.

“Is the sex amazing?” Ivanna asked.

“He puts me . . . he puts me in a chastity belt.” Normally, I’d never tell her about this, but I had to vent.

She gave a throaty laugh. “How unexpected!”

“You aren’t outraged for me? It’s archaic! And I don’t have any clothes. I either wear a shirt of his or go without. So basically I’m left naked and available for his use whenever he wants me.”

“Your accent just thickened, and your voice grew husky. He’s not the only one enjoying your situation.”

I lay back, staring at the ceiling. “All I can think about is him. His body. It’s like I’m drugged. My brain goes on a loop, replaying things we’ve done, imagining things we’ll do. I walk around in this lust-fueled haze.”

“It sounds enchanting.”