Mikhail is a hard man to read, though. I feel somewhat safe with him in the fact I don’t think he’d let any other man hurt me. But Mikhail can also be demanding and intimidating. It’s a strange combination to both fear my husband and know he’s the only one who can keep me safe.
Vik flips her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I guess we should go down. Be polite.”
“Are you not afraid?” Mila asks her.
“No.” She keeps her head held high. Vik is always good at doing that. It might even be her best quality. “I see this as an opportunity. You and I need to make good marriage matches, Mila. This is our chance.” She looks at me. “Tell me these men are just as powerful as Mikhail is.”
I shrug. “I’ve never seen any of these men before.”
Vik pouts and sets her eyes back on the men. “That’s fine, I guess. I’ll just have to go talk to them. See who’s worthy of me. Let’s go.” She starts walking down the stairs.
Mila and I hurry to catch up.
Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I feel even more intimidated. There has to be at least forty of them in the apartment. Even though Mikhail’s penthouse suite is large, it feels cramped. I’m not sure I can breathe.
The sea of men part, and Mikhail walks through, coming to stand before me. “You look beautiful.”
His words make me blush. “Thank you.” I think back to what we did the other night. How he touched me with my underwear and almost made me orgasm. My body is still wired from that, having never gotten my release. Standing next to Mikhail only makes me more aware of my body. How does he have this effect on me?
He links my hand through his arm as he walks me over to some men clustered together. I look back for Mila and Vik, but they’ve been sucked into the crowd. My heart beats faster when I can’t find them.
“Gentlemen,” Mikhail says. “This is my wife, Sofiya.”
“Beautiful,” one man says, taking a sip of champagne as he rakes his gaze over me. Mikhail’s arm tenses.
“Does she talk?” another one asks. That makes all of them laugh, including Mikhail. The betrayal slaps me in the face.
“She talks.” Mikhail looks down at me. “Say hello, Sofiya.”
“Hello,” I whisper, feeling my face on fire.
For some reason, my response makes the men smirk like I just said something funny.
One man turns to Mikhail and starts speaking in Russian. Mikhail responds in Russian, and they continue to speak while I don’t understand a word they say. The other men in the group join in, and I’m left out.
I look around, searching for Vik and Mila, and I quickly spy Vik talking with Andrei. I don’t trust Andrei, and I definitely don’t like him talking to my sister.
I want to go over there and make sure Vik is ok, but out of us three, Vik is the strongest. She can handle herself. I just hope Mila is ok because I know my baby sister will be eaten alive by these men.
VIKTORIYA
I gaze around this party, bored. Where are all the cute, rich, and powerful men? Half of them are old, which is just … ugh. And the other half are ignoring me and speaking in Russian.
I’ve lost sight of Mila. She wandered down the hallway, but the room is crowded with men, and I can’t see her. Sofiya is fine with Mikhail. I’m jealous. I’ll admit it. Why can’t I have a husband like Mikhail?
A man approaches me—he’s sort of cute in a lanky way.
“Andrei,” he says, extending his hand.
I stare down at his hand and then look back up at him. I don’t shake hands. “Viktoriya.”
“I know. You’re one of Sofiya’s sisters.”
Sofiya again. It’s always Sofiya. “Yes. I’m the older one. The better one.”
That makes Andrei laugh. “I’m sure you are.” He gazes around the room. “These parties can be so boring, can’t they?”
“They can.”
He leans in closer to me, and I lean back. “How about you and me get out of here?”
I almost laugh. He can’t be serious. Why would I, Viktoriya Morozova, go off with a man alone? I would ruin my stellar reputation. Besides, I can’t walk for long with my ankle still in its cast.
“How about not?” I respond, and Andrei frowns. “Who are you? You work for Mikhail?”
“I do. I’m his second in command.”
Only? That’s disappointing. I need a husband who’s more powerful than Mikhail. Not one who works for him. “Well, good for you, but I’m not interested. So, you can keep walking.” I waggle my fingers at him.
Andrei huffs. “I wouldn’t act so high and mighty. You’re not a princess.”
“No. I’m a queen.” I turn away from him. After a moment, I glance back and see him walking away in a huff. Good. That’s what he gets for thinking he can seduce me.
Another man approaches me. I’ll be honest—this one is a lot more handsome than Andrei. Wavy dark hair. Bright blue eyes. Broad shoulders. I’m not normally impressed by any man’s physique because most men can’t live up to me, but this man, well, he is the definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
“You have an ego on you, don’t you?” the man asks.
“I do.”
