I get up and stand beside him, my hand hovering over his back.
But he straightens and takes a step back, sneering down his nose at me. “I’m not some spineless wimp who needs love to heal or whatever bullshit you’re about to say. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.” He jabs a finger at me. “You’re the damaged one.”
He isn’t wrong, but he also doesn’t acknowledge that he’s the one who caused the damage.
Seeing that this is getting nowhere, I say, “About the job.”
“It’s yours. Send Elya whatever contract and I’ll sign it. Don’t fuck it up.”
I smile ruefully as I descend the stairs and turn toward the driveway. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel him watching me as I walk away. In the car, I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself before starting the car and navigating away from the Novak estate.
Maybe this is why I kept my business a secret from Andrej for so long. Because I knew something like this would happen. And that when we came back together, it would upend my world.
I only hope he doesn’t destroy it. Or if he does, that I’m not alone in the wreckage.
Chapter Five
Andrej
I’ve moved my headquarters temporarily to my father’s home office so that I can be accessible during the cleaning and cataloging. When I find out that Valya has assigned her father, Peter, to lead the crew at the estate, I don’t know whether to feel relieved that I don’t have to see her every day, or pissed off that it feels like she got one over on me.
The old man is a lot like his daughter—even-keeled and soft-spoken. My father would call him a pushover. But even I have to admit that he seems to be getting the job done. Every now and then, Valya reaches out by phone to make sure everything is to my liking. It annoys me to no end that I find myself looking forward to these updates, so I instruct my assistant, Elya, to handle all of Valya's calls. I should feel relieved, but after just a few days of not hearing from her, I feel tense and on-edge.
I've gone over a decade without speaking to Valya, but now that I have her so close again, it bothers me that I don't still have her under my thumb.
It's the day before the estate sale and I'm sitting in my father's office when there's a light knock on the door. I look up from my work, making sure my annoyance is clear on my face.
“Come in,” I bark, expecting Peter.
But when the door cracks open, it’s Valya who appears. Her hair is slicked back in a long, dark ponytail, and she’s wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and unflattering khaki pants—her company uniform.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Making sure everything is ready for the estate sale.”
“I thought you didn’t do the cleaning.”
“We all pitch in when we have to.”
She nudges the door the rest of the way open with her foot and I see that she’s carrying an old cardboard box. Without being invited, she crosses the room and drops it on the desk.
I scowl at it. “What’s that?”
“It looks like personal items. I wanted to see what you wanted to do with them.”
Pulling open the flaps, she starts pulling items out—a soccer trophy, a science fair medal, a tattered and highlighted copy of All the King’s Men. She holds it for a moment, and I resist the urge to snatch it from her fingers. Instead, I make my way around the desk to stand beside her and peer inside the box.
“God, you loved this book,” she says.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask, taking it and flipping through the dusty, yellowed pages. “It’s about a man who’ll do anything to get what he wants.”
She hums thoughtfully, pulling out other items from the box, a seemingly random assortment. “Why is all this in the attic?” she asks.
There’s a familiar black velvet jewelry box at the bottom, and my chest tightens at the sight of it. I pull it out and flip it open. My mother’s amethyst ring shines back at me, the golden band as beautiful as it was the day I hid it away in here. I snap the box closed before answering. “My father liked to take things that mattered away from me. To hurt me.”
“So, you packed them away and hid them from him?”
Shrugging, I add, “And forgot about them. They’re just sentimental relics from another time.”
Valya doesn’t say anything for a long time. I look over at her, and the way she’s looking at me, it’s like she doesn’t see the me that’s standing in front of her, but someone else, someone I haven’t been for a long time. It reminds me of a quote from All the King’s Men about the friend of your youth, and how he will only ever see a face in his mind that does not exist anymore.
The boy that Valya sees, though, is weak. Vulnerable. Foolish. Not the wealthy, powerful man I’ve become. Right now, I’d rather she not see me at all.
“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way by him,” Valya says in a whisper. “You were just a child.”
Anger that feels a little bit like grief ties a tight, unbreakable knot in my chest. I pick up the cardboard box, turn, and hurl it at the door. It falls short, hitting the hardwood floor, the contents exploding out of it like a firework of my childhood. The trophy hits the wall and snaps into two pieces.
Valya turns to me in shock, a hand covering her perfect fucking mouth.
“I don’t need your pity,” I growl, taking a step forward until she’s pressed between me and the desk. “He made me strong, successful.”
“He hurt you.” She leans back, catching herself on the desk, but she doesn’t drop her eyes from mine. “You deserved so much better than that.”
“Like what?” I ask, my face nearly touching hers. “You?”
Before she can answer, I wrap my hands around her small biceps and press my lips to hers. Her unwavering sweetness is like an addiction. I hate myself for how much I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw her again. That’s why my kiss is urgent and fierce, so I can prove to myself that it’s just carnal desire, nothing more. I can fuck her out of my system and forget all about her. She’s just like any other girl.
Our teeth knock together as I force her mouth open and sweep my tongue inside. She makes a low sound in her throat and grabs my belt as I press her against the desk. Instead of pushing me away or turning her head, though, she tugs me closer, pressing our hips together, deepening the kiss.
This turn of events startles me enough that when she starts walking me backward, I don’t object, and when the backs of my knees hit the chair, I fall into it, pulling Valya down with me. She fits perfectly into my lap, like our bodies are two pieces of the same puzzle. Chills run up my spine when her hands brush against my chest and stomach. I grind against her leg, wanting her to know how she still affects me.
Moving my mouth from her lips, I suck on her neck, pulling aside the collar on the polo shirt for better access. Her fingers tug the small hairs on the back of my neck almost painfully, and I bite down, wanting to mark her like I used to when we were in high school.
“Andy,” she gasps, throwing her head back to give me better access.
I go still. What the fuck am I doing? I’m supposed to be intimidating her, proving to myself that she’s nothing to me. Nobody. Instead, I’m melting into a puddle of nostalgic goo.