Page 71 of Ruthless Reign
“You did so well, milaya. How about you ride my face now?”
I smooth my dress down and flee the balcony without another word. Few times in life have I done anything so genuinely stupid that I’m afraid I completely lost the plot.
I’ve always been the sensible one. The reasonable one holding my family together. The practical one talking my friends out of their crazy ideas. When Kira and I were in school, that was my role. She was the wild one willing to take risks, but me? I was the one who kept her from doing the really stupid thing.
Yet here I am, a grownass woman with more to lose than I even care to think about, and I’ve done something really stupid. Again.
My pulse roars in my ears as I navigate through the clusters of opera-goers taking advantage of the intermission to grab a drink and gossip with friends. I slow down my long strides, run a hand over my ponytail, and straighten my dress, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
What I just did was reckless, but I don’t feel a twinge of guilt. Because when Roman confessed his feelings and the reason for his involvement with Katerina, I had no fight left in me. I needed his hands on me. Needed to touch and taste him again.
It was just as good as I remembered—God, even better than I remember—but it was a moment of madness, a lapse in judgment.
Swallowing hard, I spot Anatoly near the bar and make my way through the crowd towards him, but he doesn’t see me. He’s focused on his sister, who’s leaning against him, looking a little worse for wear.
“Is everything okay,” I ask cautiously.
He huffs out an annoyed breath. “It was, until this one came outside and decided to act like an idiot.”
My eyes settle on Katerina. She’s practically slumped against the bar, looking dazed, the glass in her hand tipping precariously in her loose grip.
“Roman, there you are!” She suddenly brightens, her eyes on something—or rather, someone—behind me.
Great, there’s no escaping the man.
“Where’d you go, Kat? You told me to meet you at the bar at intermission,” Roman says, playing it cool.
Katerina flutters her lashes and leans forward. “So … are you gonna come home with me?”
Anatoly’s nostrils flare, and I’m pretty sure he’s about to blow a gasket. “The only person going home is you—right now, before you further embarrass our family.” Anatoly may not want Roman as a brother-in-law, but he cares what he thinks. With barely a glance my way, Anatoly announces, “I need to take my sister home. I’ll send a car for you.”
Roman is quick to interject. “No need. I didn’t plan on staying longer. I’ll give Liza a ride home.”
Anatoly’s features tighten, and I’m sure he’s about to shoot the idea down, but I step in before this becomes an issue.
“That won’t be necessary,” I assure Roman. “I’d like to stay for the rest of the performance, so?—”
“If you want to stay, we can stay,” Roman drawls. “I don’t have anywhere to be. And you really seemed to enjoy the grand finale of the last act. I saw you get swept up in the rapture of it all.”
My cheeks heat, and it takes serious restraint to not punch Roman in the throat. But I know better than to argue because Roman is relentless when he wants to be.
“If you stay, I want to stay.” Katerina's pleading tone grates on my nerves.
“That won’t be happening. You’re a mess.” Anatoly’s hand wraps around his sister’s upper arm, and he starts dragging her towards the exit, then stops and turns around, glaring at Roman and me.
Something passes over his gaze, a look that I can’t name, but it sparks a shiver down my spine.
“Get her home safely, Vasiliev. After all, Liza is going to be my wife very soon.”
Roman doesn’t answer; he just stands, tight-jawed and serious, watching Anatoly haul his sister away.
We don’t speak in the car for a long time. In some ways, there’s so much to say, and in other ways, it’s best if we say nothing at all.
Surprisingly, Anatoly didn’t put up much of a fight when I left with Roman. Then again, it wouldn’t look right if he couldn’t trust his partner to give me a lift home.
Neither Roman nor I have acknowledged what happened on the balcony. Other than Roman dismissing his guard for the evening, he’s maintained a stoic silence. Something is on his mind, but I’m hesitant to ask what it is. We both have secrets we’re holding tight to our chest.
I’m dying to know why he made a deal with Katerina, of all people. Sure, she flits about the office of the family business, but I don’t think she does any actual work unless dressing up and looking hot count.