Chapter 3

MISHA'S POV

He didn't look surprised, didn't comment on the mess I'd made. A man like him had surely watched women lose their composure before—but mine came from a different place entirely.

"You're Sasha Reza?" His eyes searched mine as he settled into the chair across from me.

The waitress kept apologizing, as though she'd knocked the glass from my hand herself, and cleaned the spill while gaping at Nikolai between glances. Her clumsiness outpaced even mine.

"Ye…s." I stammered, trembling. If he recognized me, wouldn't he have shown it? If he were pretending, suspicion would have flickered across that unreadable face. But his expression gave nothing away, his body language perfectly neutral—and I was the one shaking as the waitress poured me wine, replaced the shattered shot, and took her time admiring the man seated opposite me.

"Your hand is shaking. Are you all right, Miss Reza?" His stare demanded an answer.

I stared into the wine glass I'd nervously lifted to my lips. A mistake—he'd noticed.

"Misha, speak to me. What's happening? That doesn't sound good. What are you doing? The sooner you finish this, the better for you." Sasha's voice crackled in my ear.

"Your father must have briefed you on the purpose of this arrangement. I am Nikolai Dimitri." He said it plainly, and I exhaled—finally, an answer. Sasha needed to stop talking and stop adding to my problems.

She could hear him. Why was he dragging this out instead of cutting straight to the chase?

"What the—" Her voice came a moment later, the perfect reaction. She must have looked the name up.

What were we going to do? What had I walked into?

"Now is the perfect moment to reject him and leave before this spirals beyond what we can handle. He doesn't seem to recognize you, so we're still safe." Sasha's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

"Is there anything I can get for you, sir?" The waitress had returned without my noticing, her voice honeyed as she addressed him,but he didn't blink, didn't look away from me.

It was as though he could read me. I flushed beneath his gaze. The waitress was flirting, angling for his attention, but he sat like a statue, his eyes never wavering. I looked everywhere except at him, and realized I needed to be Sasha, not Misha.

As Sasha had instructed, I had to end this before it spiraled.

"I don't need anything. Leave us." He dismissed the waitress without once breaking eye contact with me.

"Oh….okay. If you change your mind, just press…."

He silenced her with a single murderous glance, and she half-ran to the next table. This stone-faced, devastatingly handsome man, his voice alone could melt hearts if he ever bothered to smile.

"Whatever arrangement you made with my father, I refuse to be a pawn in his business dealings. You're nothing but an opossum to me, and I'll never consider someone like you." My fists clenched, still trembling with adrenaline. I could barely believe the words had come from my own mouth.

"Well, that was harsh. Do you even know what an opossum is, Misha?" Sasha's voice in my ear made me shiver.

I'd said whatever came to mind, Sasha-like, sharp and cutting. I wanted to respond, but instead I stood, careful not to spill another drop of wine, shoulders squared, daring him to answer.

He chuckled, a low, menacing sound that sent another shiver through me.

Had I gone too far? I warred with myself internally. What if he retaliated? Of course he would. But I had no idea what was moving behind that expressionless face, and I wouldn't back down. I'd show him I wasn't afraid.

"I said what I meant, and I won't apologize. You're not worthy of me, and I don't see myself ever seeing you again." My eyes flashed with resolve as I grabbed my purse, pushed back my chair, and walked away with deliberate care.

It took everything to concentrate on walking,I could feel his eyes tracking me and I was almost surprised at myself when I left the restaurant without tripping over my own feet.

"Oh my God, girl, you did it! It's finally over! I'm free from this one!" Sasha's giggle made me nauseous.

"I don't know if it's over, so just shut up." I muttered, keeping my chin high as I walked, mercifully, still upright.

"At least he'll pay for the red wine and know he has nothing on Sasha Reza." She kept chattering happily as I waited for a taxi outside the restaurant.

"First thing tomorrow morning, you can make the withdrawal and go to that woman's location and hand over the money with pride. Go there and shock her too." Sasha continued as I stood on the curb.

And of course, I was finished. No more job for me, how was I supposed to get that same man back to the restaurant?

I needed time to think, to scout for another job as quickly as possible. While I waited, my phone rang, and Ken's name lit up the screen.

A smile spread across my lips. My safe place had finally called me back. Ken was my fiancé, and we were getting married this Christmas. I'd been trying to reach him for days, and I knew he must have been buried in work. He was probably free now, that's why he'd called back.

I answered at once, about to speak, when the filthiest slur poured from the other end.

"Yeah, baby, fuck me harder! You're so fucking good, Ken!"

I must have misheard. My mind was playing tricks, I missed him, right? The next words cut the air from my lungs.

"Oh, I'm coming, honey! You're so damn sweet, Katya!"

Am I hallucinating?