Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(112)

“She’s moving money into two other accounts.”

Konstantin glances at me with his eyebrows pinched together. I knew Paige’s explanation for funneling money into one separate account. But a second one?

I keep my expression neutral while I lie. “That’s fine. I’m aware.”

“Very good, sir,” Anatoly says. “I remain at your service if you need anything else.”

He bows his head formally before turning and leaving the room.

“Always liked that guy,” Konstantin remarks, looking after Anatoly with a slight smirk on his face.

“He doesn’t waste your time with long goodbyes, ya know?”

I’m too busy staring at the greenhouse to reply. A second account? Why? It doesn’t make any sense.

It’s not like I have access to or control over the first account she’s already opened.

“Missing your bride?”

I turn my attention back to Konstantin. “We just got back from a whole week together.”

“Ten days,” he corrects quickly. “It didn’t escape my notice that you extended the trip an eensy li’l smidge.”

I roll my eyes. “She wanted to explore the city a little more.”

“And you just couldn’t say no? I think it was the longest stretch of time you’ve ever taken off work since the womb.”

“Are you going to complain about how you had to hold down the fort for me while I was gone?”

He shakes his head hurriedly. “On the contrary, I was glad. I am glad. You needed the break. And you and Paige needed some quality time together. If I remember correctly, Maksim and Cyrille came back from a similar trip very much in love.”

I bristle. “Why does everyone insist on using that fucking word?”

Konstantin smirks. “Love is not a dirty word, brother.”

“It is in my world.”

He sighs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, mea culpa. I guess I just made an assumption. When you two got back last night, I noticed that—”

“What?” I snap defensively. “Tell me what you noticed. I’m all fucking ears.”

He raises his eyebrows as though I’ve just given myself away. “I noticed that you both seemed a lot more… relaxed. Comfortable with one another. There was a certain chemistry there that was hard to ignore. It was also hard to ignore that you had gotten laid.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He wags his eyebrows at me, undeterred. “You gonna deny that you consummated your marriage?”

“Love and sex are not mutually inclusive, Konstantin.”

“Oh, I know that firsthand. But consistent sex with the same person is… telling.”

“She’s my wife. She’s carrying my child. If I hope to have another child one day, we’re going to need to have sex.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees with a nod. “But considering she’s currently pregnant, having sex serves no real purpose, does it? Which means that you must be—”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?”

Chuckling, he gets to his feet. “All I’m saying is that having a marriage built on love might not be the worst thing.”

“Not until one of us dies,” I snarl, my tone cutting like ice. “And the other one has to go on living.

Look at Cyrille.”

Konstantin’s expression falters for a moment. His voice loses its normal verve, dropping into a lower, more vulnerable register. “You can’t avoid pain completely, Misha. No human being can cut it out of their lives forever.”

“Then maybe I should cut out the human part of me,” I suggest dryly. “That ought to do the trick.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a worried kind of sound. “Sometimes, you scare me, cuz.”

Yeah. That’s the whole fucking point.





86

PAIGE

“So it was good?” Cyrille asks, her eyes wide and hopeful.

The greenhouse has become our unspoken hangout spot ever since our first meal together. Today, though, the glass walls make me feel a little too exposed. Cyrille wants to know everything about the honeymoon, and I can’t help but feel like Misha is out there somewhere… watching me.

“It was great,” I say, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Honestly, that’s underselling it: it was the most amazing vacation I’ve ever been on. To be fair, I think it might have been the only vacation I’ve ever been on. But either way, it was awesome. Prague was gorgeous. And the buildings. Cyrille! They were just so—”

“I don’t care about the damn buildings!” she interjects with a strangled laugh. “I’m not asking about Prague; I want to know about Misha. How were things between the two of you?”

“Oh.”

Her eyes go wider still, but her smile falters. “I mean, when we heard you’d extended your trip, we figured things were going well.”

I give her a shy grin. “Things did go well. We traveled a lot. We explored the city. We shopped and ate and drank. Well, he drank. I had whatever non-alcoholic beverage they had on—”

“Paige!”

I stop short, a blush coloring my cheeks. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”