She wants to learn how the precipitator will help lessen the chance of bar workers facing the horrifying disease her mother is enduring, but also a way to make it cheaper so the lesser-known establishments aren’t disadvantaged.
Sensing my presence, she says, “The setup seems pretty simple.” She doesn’t look up. “It is more about the unit not recycling the air circulating throughout the establishment and filtering it instead.” She looks up, her eyes widening in confusion when she notices my swanky threads. “Budgeting hacks get you that worked up, Marshmallow Man?”
I roll my eyes like I hate how close she has become with Zoya the past few days, before entering the den further. Emerson looks smoking hot with flushed cheeks, mangled hair from giving me the best head of my life, and chapped lips, but since I need to be on my game tonight with members of my family in attendance, I think it is best that she changes.
When I say that to her, her confusion greatens. “Are we going somewhere?”
I can’t help but smile at her daftness. It is endearing how oblivious she can be sometimes, but tonight, we don’t have the luxury of time—not if I want her to spend the next hour naked and moaning beneath me.
“Tonight is the gala.” I check the time on the pompous timepiece I was gifted on my eighteenth birthday. “We need to leave soon.”
“The gala?” She swallows thickly. “I didn’t think we were still going, so I didn’t organize anything to wear.”
Emerson looks peeved when I say, “Then what were you searching for in the attic at Zelenolsk this morning?”
Stealing her chance to answer, I walk over to the coat closet and pull out the midnight-blue dress bag she was seeking.
Her eyes widen in surprise as she stands, stepping closer. Her eyes bounce between the dress and me for several seconds before they eventually settle on me.
“I’m glad you found it, but I still don’t think we should go.”
“Why?” I ask, talking through a tight jaw and the pain of my clipped nails digging into my palm from when I ball my hands into fists. “If it is about my father, I’ll?—”
“It’s not about him.”
“Then what is it?” I don’t mean to snap at her, but I’m truly confused. She sought out this event off a list of many. She approved it. So why is she backing out hours before the main event?
I know she’s endeavoring to prove she isn’t in this for the money, but this is about more than that.
It is something far,fargreater than that.
I need my father to see I got the girl and the success, because then maybe he will accept one of my mother’s many requests to see him. He could be the key to the shackles holding back her recovery, but he’s refusing to see her.
I also want to commence crossing items off our list so my grandfather’s estate lawyers won’t have anything to fall back on if they try to deny our claim of matrimony.
Kolya’s return to Moscow ruffled feathers, and his whispers about our marriage being fraudulent have extended further than the gallows of Zelenolsk.
Emerson bites her lip before she sinks back toward the couch and takes a seat. Her eyes search mine, seeking any signs of leniency.
I usually hand it over in a nanosecond, but this time, I clutch to it, my resolve undogged.
“Em—”
“It’s just… this. Us. I’m not sure I want to take it to a wider audience yet.”
My heart sinks to my feet, and its quick drop is heard in my tone. “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“No, Mikhail. Never.” She races across the glossed floorboards, reaching me in less than a heartbeat. “I just don’t understand why you want to surround us with these people. They’re the same people who tried to destroy us, the ones who pushed our heads under the water when we fell. They arenotthe people we want in our inner circle.”
“They’re not,” I agree, wholeheartedly understanding her concerns. “But they’re the people I need to see us.”The ones I crave approval from the most.
Since I can’t say that, I remind her that the lawyers from my grandfather’s estate will also be in attendance, so this is a good way to show unity.
She is mere months from a massive payday that will set up her family for life.
I don’t want anything to ruin it.
I didn’t lie when I said I would give this woman the world. Five hundred million dollars isn’t close to the summit I plan to spoil her with, but it is a good start.
