The Master (The Game Maker #2)(90)

And all it’d taken for him to have this epiphany was screwing Ivanna. Something in me snapped.

With a screech, I dug stacks of money from the briefcase and threw them in his face. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you booked my friend!”

His lips parted on a breath. “You’re jealous, finally! You do give a f*ck about me! Now you know how I felt when you cried out for another man!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the water tower near campus. “Stop!” We’d passed my classroom! “Stop here!” I could still run and make it on time.

“Tell me what’s here.”

“I will—just stop!”

He called for Vasili, and the car slowed.

I lunged for the door, but Sevastyan snatched my hand. “Where are you running?”

Eyes wide, I cried, “To get the grail!” I yanked open the door, stumbling out into the rain, almost falling before I righted myself. Money flew out after me, crisp hundreds flying on a stormy breeze.

Without a look back, I ran to finish my degree.





CHAPTER 36




Get it together, Cat.

As I waited for Ms. Gillespie in her classroom, I gazed out the window, catching my breath after my frantic sprint here. The clouds were so dark, the day looked more like night.

My thoughts raced. Too many things had happened to process. Over the weekend, I’d recognized that I loved Sevastyan. I’d been happy with him, happy to make new friends. He’d basically proposed. Last night I’d been barricaded in a bathroom, all my hopes in ruins. And now my whole life was in turmoil. What did Sevastyan want from me? Did he expect me to contact him—

My jaw dropped. His car pulled up and stopped across the street! How the hell did he find me? I’d hauled ass over more than a mile, skirting between buildings and over the quad.

He stepped out into the drizzle, scanning for a moment before his gaze settled on me. From his vantage, he could see into my second-story classroom. Could see me under bright fluorescent lights.

What must he be thinking about this? Would he bust in? Or would he hang out while I took my test?

He took out his phone and texted someone. A instant later, a chime sounded. I stilled.

That was my text chime. From my bag.

I opened the pack and fished it out. He’d slipped the phone in so he could track me! Maybe when I’d been looking out the window on the bus? Sneaky Russian!

He was giving me a brows-drawn look. I must like pain in all its forms, because I pulled up the message.

M Sevastyan: I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you do well. I would never be unfaithful to you.

Damn him! Did I dare believe him? Maybe he’d booked Ivanna to get information on me. But why hadn’t she called me back? I checked the rest of my messages. Several were from her number, not two hours after I’d ditched the phone. Mierda!

Despite her long red nails, she’d attempted to text: takked ti Sev!!1 U lnded hom!

Landed him? Even if he hadn’t been with Ivanna, Sevastyan and I still weren’t good. Not in any way. He’d been horrible to me. Because of him, I’d nearly lost my mind last night—and today.

I texted him back: you broke my heart yesterday

When he read the message, his head jerked up, disbelief in his expression. Without looking away from me, he replied: let. me. mend. it.

We stared at each other as my chest twisted and twisted.

“Hi, Cat, are you ready?” Ms. Gillespie said as she breezed into the room.

I turned from the window. “Ready as ever.”

“You’ll have forty-five minutes.” She handed me the exam.

I settled into a desk. I could do this! Yet as I stared down at the page, the text swam before my eyes. Were my eyes watering again? I never cried in front of other people.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I-I’m fine.” Get it together! “Ready to get started.” My gaze slid to the window again. Sevastyan was still out there, watching me. Hey, no pressure. If he caused me to tank my grade, I would have to murder him.

I read, “Question number one,” and I thought Rule number one. I was at the end of my odyssey. Would I choke at the finish line . . . ?

Forty-five minutes later, Ms. Gillespie said, “Time’s up.”

I gathered my stuff, then trudged up to her. I couldn’t remember my answers. I wanted to go back over the test—and make sure I hadn’t written MURDER over and over—but she looked expectantly at me.

“This is your last class, right?” When I nodded, she said, “I could grade the exam now, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great.” As she began to read my answers, I peered out the window. Sevastyan leaned against his car, phone at his ear.

Again, I wondered what I would have done if I’d heard him groan a woman’s name—after overhearing him tell a friend, “I’m involved with another woman.”

“This looks wonderful, Cat,” Ms. Gillespie said, drawing my gaze. “An A. Congratulations on completing your courses!”

I’d finished.

I’d atoned and kept my promise.

One day, I would transfer all these credits to get my degree.

One day, it would say summa cum laude on it.

All this time, all this work, and I’d done it! When I’d first started college, I’d pictured myself celebrating with friends upon graduating. What would I do now? My eyes only wanted to look at Máxim. He’d said he loved me, but could I believe that? Should I give my flawed mobster another shot?