Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(76)

“I’m not following.”

She gets to her feet slowly. She’s wearing a beautiful silk kimono that hugs her body tightly and highlights her cleavage.

Fucking focus , Misha.

“It’s a joint account,” she repeats. “You’re the main account holder. If something were to change between us, you could withdraw all the funds. You could freeze the account. You have all the control, and I wouldn’t have any access to my own money.”

“What makes you think something might change between us?” I snarl.

She shrugs weakly. “I was with Anthony for eight whole years. I thought I was married to him for six.

We bought a house together, started a business together, built a life together… and in a matter of moments, all of it disappeared on me. Including him.”

“I don’t appreciate being compared to that mudak.”

“I’m not—that’s not what I’m—” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not comparing you to Anthony. I’m comparing me to… past me. I may have been a fool back then, Misha, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn from my mistakes. I need my own money, independent of any man. I need to know that if you decide to get rid of me, that I’ll have something of my own to fall back on.”

She folds her hands together nervously, tangling and untangling her fingers.

She’s expecting anger on my part. Indignation. Suspicion. Maybe that’s why she stands her ground, close enough that I can feel each breath that leaves her lips.

“We may look like a married couple to the rest of the world. But, let’s face it, you and me—this was and is a business proposition. And those come to an end the moment they stop being profitable.”

I don’t know how to ease her mind. I don’t know how to comfort her. That was never my strong suit.

So instead, I offer her the only thing I can.

“Fine.”

She blinks. “What?”

I nod. “If it helps you to have an escape route, then you can keep your separate account.”

“Really?” she asks, looking amazed. “You’re okay with this?”

No. Not at all. I’m not her ex. I’m trustworthy. I would never hurt her. I’ll kill any man who does.

Those are the thoughts raging through my mind.

But outwardly, I just nod. “I said fine.”





56

PAIGE

Being away from work has been harder than I expected. I like my new role at the company. It gives me purpose. It makes me feel useful.

However, those feelings started to fade during my full-body massage. Now, with a flavored water in my hand and a deep conditioning treatment worked into my hair, I’m reconsidering a life of luxurious leisure.

“I should be working,” Rada says, lifting the edge of her eye mask to peek over at me.

I wave her worry away. “You are working. You’re keeping me company while my husband insists on pampering me back to full health. That’s work.”

“Pampering” isn’t even the right word; Misha has gone above and beyond. The formal living room on the first floor has been transformed into my own personal spa. I’ve got a never-ending supply of canapes flowing in from the kitchen at one-hour intervals. Rada sits beside me while Layna rubs my feet.

“Do you need something to drink?” she asks.

“I’m all good; just got a refill.” I lift my water glass to show her.

“Just checking. I’m supposed to give you anything you could possibly desire.”

I smile at that, imagining the words in Misha’s voice. Then the hollow place in my chest—the one I’ve been trying hard to ignore—rings out like a struck gong.

Before I can doubt myself, I sit up. “There is one thing you could give me: the truth.” I look from Layna to Rada. When they both nod, I carry on. “Have either one of you ever been in love?”

Both of them look up at me in surprise. Rada is the first to speak up. “Um, I have. At least, I think I have.”

“If you just think you have, then you probably haven’t,” Layna says with a smile. “I’m currently in love. With my husband. We’ve been married for seven years now. When you’re in love, you know it.”

I smile at the obvious joy radiating out of her. “How did you meet?”

“We were both training as massage therapists in Thailand,” she says. “We eloped four months after we met.”

“Wow.” Rada shakes her head. “You married him after only four months together? Crazy.”

My face flushes. Misha and I knew each other for much less than four months. And love didn’t factor into the decision at all.

“It was the best decision I ever made,” Layna says with no hesitation.

Rada glances at me. “What about you, Paige?”

She’s gotten much better about calling me by my first name. It almost makes this moment feel like a spa day with girlfriends rather than a strange meeting with two of my employees. Maybe that’s why I’m able to be honest.

“Is this where I have to tell you I’m desperately in love to keep up appearances?”

Layna and Rada exchange another glance. Layna is the first to speak. “This is a safe space,” she says gently. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t feel comfortable saying.”