Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(140)

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’ll lose the last of the daylight if we delay any longer.”

Misha steps away from me awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were here, Cyrille.”

“Paige asked if I wanted to join her for an evening run, so here I am,” she says. “So she won’t be alone. In any case, we’ll have security with us.”

He shoots me a quick, incomprehensible glance, grunts something I can’t decipher, and makes for the front door. Going to throw his weight around a bit more with any other underlings who get in his way, no doubt.

I’m proven right when Cyrille and I follow him outside a minute or two later. There are four security guards already in position, faces deadly serious and weapons gleaming obviously on their hips.

“Don’t let them out of your sight,” Misha orders. He turns to the both of us. “I’ve instructed them to have you two back in an hour.”

“My workout is slated for two hours,” I protest.

He’s unmoved. “Well, you’ll have to change your plans. There’s no point in overexerting yourself.

You have to think of the babies.”

He turns away before I can respond, and I grind my teeth. The ache to argue with him more rises up in me. But Cyrille nudges my arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

We cleared the mansion before she turns to me with a sly smile. “Do you really jog for two hours?”

I snort. “Of course not. I just wanted to argue.”

Her smile is subtle and cryptic. “I can see why.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I was standing there for, like, two full minutes before either one of you even noticed me. The sexual tension was off the charts.”

I almost choke. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” she muses innocently. “So you didn’t feel anything while the two of you were going at it?”

“Just anger,” I say, swallowing hard.

Cyrille laughs. “Oh, that was convincing. And the Oscar goes to… Paige Orlov! ”

I blush fiercely, giving myself away. “Oh, alright, fine. I felt… something.”

“Shocking. The crowd gasps in surprise!” I bump my hip into hers, nudging her off the sidewalk for a second as she cackles to herself. She laughs some more and shakes her head. “You two just remind me of the early days with Maksim. I forgot what it felt like until just now. Seeing the two of you—all fire and passion. Fighting just to cover up the fact that you’d rather be fucking.”

“Cyrille!” I gasp, clutching my imaginary pearls.

She giggles. “I don’t know; I guess something about that exchange gave me hope.”

“Hope for what? We’re more likely to kill each other than kiss each other these days.”

“Whatever you say, Paige. I’ll just say that, one day, I wouldn’t mind meeting a man who makes me so angry that the rest of the world fades away.”

We’ve slowed to a walk now. More of a stroll, really. Our bodyguards look bored as hell as they hover around us like musclehead hummingbirds.

“I’d rather you wish for someone who adores you so much that the world fades away.” She smiles, and I link my arm with hers. “But I’m glad that you’re thinking about a future. I’m glad you’re not going to keep yourself on the shelf forever.”

Cyrille takes a deep breath. “Honestly, I never thought I’d get to this place. I mean, I’m still not ready…”

“But you want to be one day,” I infer.

She nods. “Yeah. One day.”

“Well, at least our fight did one good thing then.”

She nods again, then lapses into silence. It’s a nice night out. Warm and humid enough for every breeze to feel like a gentle caress.

“Do you think you could ever get to a place where you could forgive him?” Cyrille asks after a while.

I’ve asked myself that question a million times. I still have no idea.

“I’m scared to forgive him, Cyrille. I’m scared that the moment I do, he’s going to pull the rug out from underneath me and leave me vulnerable again. He’ll take it back. He’ll push me away. And I’ll be back to square one again. But worse, because I’ll be there with a broken heart.”

“Okay, but what if he doesn’t do that?”

I grab hold of my pendant. Hope might be an elusive beast, but even if you catch it, it’s hearty. It’s tough to kill.

So I push it aside and pray that, one day, it will simply die on its own.





108

MISHA

Konstantin and I stand side by side, looking down at the dead body at our feet.

“I didn’t entirely mean to kill him,” Konstantin admits. He runs a hand through his hair, dragging blood through the strands. “He was just wasting my time. He wouldn’t cough up shit.”

“Probably because he was too busy coughing up blood.”

Konstantin laughs, and I nudge his elbow. “We still have one left in the other cell. Once he knows his buddy is dead, maybe he’ll be encouraged to talk.”

Turning, we leave the cooling corpse of Petyr’s man behind us and walk into the adjoining cell together. I make sure to keep the door open so the dead body in the other room is visible.