Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(63)

She blinks, and I can sense her replaying the conversation in her head. “You heard what they were saying?”

“Yes.”

She sags and fixes her hair. “I told you that would happen.”

“And I told you to say, ‘Fuck them all.’”

“Improper employee relations are kind of how this whole mess started,” she teases weakly.

I ignore her and cross the room. “You don’t need to concern yourself with their opinions. They’re the rabble. You, malyshka, are the queen of the castle.”

She doesn’t look remotely comforted. “I’ve never gotten anything without earning it. Without fighting for it.”

“So then maybe you deserve an easy win for a change.”

“I feel like an imposter here,” she says, gesturing to the office. “Look at this place. Do I even look like I belong here?”

“Based on what I just overheard, you most definitely belong. And once I’m through with them, they will never utter a word against you again.”

“What? No!” She strides around her desk, reaching for me. “Misha, you can’t do anything. To any of them.”

“I’ll do whatever I see fit.”

“They’re disgruntled employees who are going to talk no matter what you do to them,” she argues. “I need to work with these people. They need to know that I can be tough but fair. They’re entitled to their opinions, no matter how unflattering or unkind they might be. Like you said, I need to earn their respect. That’s going to take time.”

“You know what doesn’t take time? Violence. It’s a lot harder to gossip when your tongue’s been cut out of your mouth.”

“I have to handle this myself,” she says firmly. “Like I just did. Please promise me that you won’t get involved.”

Her independence is as attractive as it is infuriating. My fists clench and unclench. “They were talking about you like you were… beneath them,” I growl. “No one talks about my wife that way.”

“It’s not something we can stop overnight. If I’m going to run this department, you’re going to have to let me fight my own battles.”

She has a point there. I nod tersely. “Fine. So be it.”

Paige sighs with relief. “Good. Now, is there a reason you’re here? Or are you just checking up on me?”

All at once, I remember why I came here, and I’m annoyed with her all over again. “Rumor in the halls is you bought a car.”

“Oh. Nikolai told you.”

“Which begs the question: why didn’t you tell me?”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” she snorts. “I just figured that is how we do things here: pass messages through our assistants.”

“You fired Althea, which is a pity, because Nikolai almost never shows up to work in fishnet

stockings. I think it’s time to let this go.”

She laughs. “I needed a car to get around, and I had the money to buy one. It’s not a big deal.”

“I have ten cars parked in the garage at home and a driver to go with each one. You don’t need your own car,” I fire back. “You certainly don’t need to be driving yourself.”

“I want to.”

I blink and in my mind’s eye, I hear the crunch of metal. I see the world tipping sideways, Paige flying across the backseat, the crack of her head hitting glass…

“Paige—”

“Misha,” she cuts in firmly. “Equals, remember? If this marriage is going to work, you’re going to have to let me call the shots once in a while. Especially when it comes to my own life.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’ve made more than enough concessions for you in the last few days.”

“Isn’t that what marriage is?” she asks innocently. “Give and take?”

“Maybe it’s your turn to give a little.” I arch a brow seductively, and she flushes. We both remember the last time she gave.

She takes a step towards me, and I glance down at the cleavage showcased by her white silk blouse.

“I promise to be a good little driver.”

“Please. You can’t fool me. You’re not a good little anything.”

She smiles seductively. “See you at home tonight?”

“I’ll let you drive, but we’re leaving together. In your damn car, if you prefer.”

I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit. But I don’t want to undermine all this newfound confidence she’s cultivating here. She needs to be tough if she’s going to work in this company. She needs to be commanding if she’s going to corral the troops.

I meant it when I said she’s queen of the castle. And, well… It takes strength to be queen.

This is the first time I’ve felt wholly confident that Paige may have exactly what it takes.





46

PAIGE

ROWAN: Hey, just went to your office, and you’re not there. Playing hooky without me?

Smiling, I text back from the coffeeshop just down the street from Orion. I’m still in the shadow of the gigantic building, but it’s just far enough away to give me some breathing room.

PAIGE: I’m at Café Revello. Brought my laptop down for company. You’re welcome to join.