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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Revenge On My Ex, Accidentally In Bed With A Billionaire : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

95 Kabanata

Chapter 41

PASHAI must have dozed off. There’s no sound coming from the bedroom, and most of the lights are off. I check my watch and suppress a groan.There go hours of my life I’ll never get back.I shuffle into the kitchen to get a glass of water. And shit, maybe a shot of something, I don’t know. I need to keep my head clear. At the same time, I need to do something to distract my thoughts from Daphne.Good fucking luck, they whisper to me.I’m on my way back to the living room when I hear a sound coming from the master bedroom. It could be nothing; she’s probably sound asleep.But then I hear it again.No one else is in here. No one else should be in here. Did she wake up?I tiptoe closer to the bedroom door and freeze. There’s no mistaking that sound.It’s a moan.Her moan.Oh, hell no.I shove the door open with one hard push and brace myself for a fight. I don’t know with who, but whoever the fuck snuck past me is a dead man.Except… there’s no one here. No one but Daphne, still in bed.

chapter 42

PASHAOne would think I’d be in a far better mood.I should be. Daphne blushed hard when she saw me at breakfast. As if she knew that I knew, though there’s no way in hell that could be true. She doesn’t have to worry; her secret’s safe with me. For now.What’s killed my good mood is the fact that Senator Brennan is now blatantly ignoring my calls, texts, emails from my corporate office, everything. As if he has any grounds to dodge me, the same man who can blow up his marriage and his career at the snap of my fingers.“I’ll be out most of the day,” I warn Daphne as I pack up to leave. “Call me if you need anything.”I try my best to ignore the way her face falls as I tug my coat on and grab my keys. What more does she want? I have shit to do. Lives to fucking ruin.But fuck me, I can’t leave. I get to the front door and find myself unable to leave the penthouse with this nagging feeling that I’ve somehow disappointed the mother of my unborn child.The trek back to the kitchen is wort

chapter 43

Sometimes, it’s best to just play ball.With the bare minimum accomplished, I turn to leave this office and return to my own. I make a mental note to see if Mak will have any luck applying pressure to Fitz—that man is so tense, a simple poke would probably make him burst wide open with information and intel.But before I can reach the exit, Brennan’s office door opens and the man himself emerges…… laughing and chatting with the last motherfucker on earth I wanted to see.Jeffrey fucking Alisher.Part of me can’t help but admire Alisher. He runs a shipping corporation that has caused me no end of grief over the last decade. Everywhere I go, there they are, bidding me up, undercutting me at every turn.The far bigger part of me wants to skip rope with his fucking entrails, though. But he’s got a Q score as high as my body count. The public loves him, for reasons I will never understand. His smiling mug is pasted on damn near half of Alisher Industries’ advertisements.The question of t

chapter 44

DAPHNE“Ma’am, please. You know I have orders.”“I know.” I take another sip from my travel mug and offer Pasha’s driver a sweet smile. “But as I’ve shared with you before, I’d rather drive myself.”Lev sighs and keeps his hand outstretched as if I’m going to give up and finally return him the car keys. “I understand, believe me. But what the boss says, goes.”“I’ll be sure to tell the boss that it’s not your fault.”Am I a shit-stirrer? Not usually. I’m more of the type to keep her head down, move in the shadows, don’t draw attention, et cetera. I don’t like causing waves.What do I like?Pasha’s reactions to my stubbornness, for one.We’ve settled into a nice, easy tempo at home that should have me feeling comfortable and relaxed. He comes home for dinner. We slide into small talk and do our best to avoid sharing details about our respective days.It’s what happens after bedtime that keeps me on edge.And it’s not his fault, necessarily.I’m the one having depraved sex dreams about

chapter 45

DAPHNEAnother day, another trudge through the muck of a job I used to love. More and more, I wonder if I ever actually loved it, or if I just loved the freedom away from Conrad and my parents and their never-ending attempts to control every last aspect of my life.When the day ends, my afternoon guard brings me home. I don’t bother making a fuss about who drives this time.“Hold on,” Viktor barks when we reach the penthouse door. He pulls me back and steps in front of me, drawing his gun in the same motion. I don’t know what’s got him on edge all of a sudden, but when I try to ask what’s wrong, he gestures for me to remain quiet.My heart jumps into my throat.Slowly and silently, he eases the door open and creeps inside.Someone’s in the kitchen. That must have been what alerted him: someone clanking and clinking and making all sorts of noises with our dishes. Pasha isn’t due home for at least another hour or two, and we don’t usually have an in-house guard stay behind all day.Vikt

chapter 46

“Th-thank you,” I stammer again. While waiting for it to cool, I watch her slide the slice of honey cake toward me before she carves out her own. “So, uh… what has Pasha been telling you about me?”Asya smiles at me knowingly. “Worried what I must think about you? Some random young lady who got pregnant with my son’s baby and is now living in his home?”I blush more, but she’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, so I nod reluctantly.“I should be the one thanking you, docha.”Safe to say that’s not at all what I’m expecting. “Sorry?”Asya laughs. “I’ve been so worried about that boy. All work and no play turns anyone into an absolute ogre. I love my Pasha dearly, but he was becoming unbearable.” She gives me a sideways smile full of warmth and mischief. “Until he met you. So yes, I am very thankful to you, and for you.”This is definitely not the interaction I expected to have with his mother. I mean, I’m not sure what all I really was expecting, but this warmth and kindness and ove

chapter 47

DAPHNEAn hour later, Asya and I are busting up laughing while I utterly fail at stuffing the dough for meaty pierogies. I’m either overfilling or rolling the dough too thin, because the membrane keeps breaking no matter how delicately I handle it.“You’re doing much better than I did when I first learned!” Asya exclaims while watching me struggle with joining the seams of my second attempt. “The trick is being able to measure a balance with your eyes. And better a thick dough than a broken one, yes?”“So what do I do with this… this… whatever the hell this is?” I laugh as I hold up my sad attempt at international cuisine.She plucks it from my hand and lays it out on the counter. “Take it apart and try again. Smaller meat, thicker dough.”“But what if it looks bad? Or it’s too small compared to the others?”“Then we eat it as a tester. Always test your cooking before serving, moya docha. Better a fat chef than a skinny husband.”I damn near choke on my own spit when she says that. Hu

chapter 48

I grab a serving platter for her to put the pierogies in, thinking she’s going to fry the rest of them up. But she shakes her head with that signature grin and hands me the spoon.“Nyet, you need to do this. I can tell you how, but you won’t learn until you do it yourself.”“Know any good Russian takeouts?” I joke as I accept the spoon. She playfully whips a kitchen towel at my butt and goes back to assembling the salad.I have to admit, I’m really enjoying this. All of this. The cooking, the learning how to actually cook, but most of all… Asya herself. She’s the perfect example of everything I’ve never had with my own mother: loving, compassionate, with a great sense of humor and the patience of a saint.And the way she treats me? I can’t dwell too much on it without feeling my eyes start to sting with unshed tears. I always knew I was missing something in my relationship with my mother; I just never had a good basis of comparison to identify what.Now, I do.And as nice as it is to

chapter 49

DAPHNESeveral pierogies and a crisp salad later, Pasha and I are laughing over a joke he heard Mak tell one of his men. “It’s even better in Russian.” He sips on his water, still chuckling. “Fuck, I gotta remember that one for Sofi.”“Do you speak Russian?” Almost immediately, I want to kick myself for asking such a stupid question. “I mean, I hear you say a few words and phrases sometimes, but…”“But am I fluent? Yes.” He sets his glass back down and smiles at me with all the warmth I wish he’d have every day. Asya was right: his stomach is a direct road to the best version of him. “I was born here in America, as were Sofi and Mak. But our father insisted we go back and visit frequently. He wanted to keep us rooted in both worlds, Old and New.”“You must have loved it.”Pasha thinks about it for a moment. “For the most part, yeah. Especially at Christmastime. The lights on the snow… I’d be bundled up so tight, I couldn’t put my arms down below my waist. But it was worth it.”I try t

chapter 50

“Very naughty girl.” He nips the underside of that breast before kissing a trail to my right one, where he does it all over again.“Pasha,” I hear myself whine. “Pasha, please…”Those strong hands smooth down my back until they hook into the waistband of my sweatpants and panties. He doesn’t let go of my nipple with his mouth as he slides both items down my thighs and drops them in a pile at our feet.Part of me feels so self-conscious about the changes in my body. My stomach is fuller, my breasts are larger—hell, I think my thighs have grown a bit thicker, too. I’m not the woman he first undressed in that storage closet.But just when I’m ready to plaster a self-conscious hand in front of my belly, Pasha seizes my wrist in a grasp firm enough to shock a surprised little yelp out of me.“If you think for even one second I’m letting you hide any part of yourself from me, you’re fucking delusional,” he snarls. “I want to see all of you. Every last, beautiful inch.”He descends with kiss

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