Todos los capítulos de Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

MIREYA SARAI ORLOVI was losing my mind, and I had the evidence spread across my desk.Forty-five minutes of pacing. Forty-five minutes of picking up the same file, setting it down, picking up another. I had revised the presentation four times, and every time I sat down to approve it, my heart climbed into my throat and a new disaster bloomed in my head.The photograph. The comments. And Mr. Harrison’s assistant, who had called at nine to ask, politely and lethally, whether Mr. Moreau would be attending.Not whether my company would be represented. Whether Nikolai would be there.Which meant Harrison was already seeing us as a set. Which meant the rumors had crawled into rooms I hadn’t even entered yet.Two hours. I had two hours to convince a man who had spent thirty years building an empire that I was not a liability.I pressed my palms flat against the desk. The figures swam. I had built this company from nothing, and I had never once walked into a meeting unprepared. But this wasn

MIREYA SARAI ORLOVMy thumb hovered over the screen for three full seconds before I pressed play.Nadia had spent days dropping vague posts and carefully worded comments, and I had learned to scroll past them. But the view count beneath this one was climbing in real time. Four hundred. Six hundred. A thousand.Then her face filled my screen. Red-rimmed eyes. Hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had gone white.“I loved him since college,” she whispered. “I believed we would end up together. And then I watched him choose someone else.”She never said his name. She didn’t have to.“I never wanted to make this public. I just don’t know how much longer I can pretend I’m fine.”The video ended on her trembling lip. The silence in my office was so complete I could hear the air conditioning.“You’re kidding me.”“I wish I were.”Nikolai stood at my window with his phone in his hand, his jacket open, the skyline glittering behind him. He hadn’t sat down once since we returned

MIREYA SARAI ORLOVThe message glowed on Nikolai’s phone before the echo of his words had even faded from my office.The draft statement is ready for your review.His communications team was waiting. All they needed was a yes.I put my hand flat on the desk between us, the new diamond flashing under the lamp, and made myself say it before I lost my nerve.“I have one condition.”Nikolai looked up from the screen. The evening had deepened while we talked, and the city lights behind him cut his silhouette out of the glass. “I’m listening.”“We do not let Nadia dictate how we announce this.” I folded my arms, partly to look composed and partly to hide how badly my hands wanted to shake. “I won’t release a statement that reads like a reply to her posts. I won’t let our engagement look like a trophy in a competition I never entered. This is a decision between the two of us, or at least it’s supposed to be. I want it presented that way.”He held my gaze for a long moment, and I had the odd

MIREYA SARAI ORLOVI walked into August’s sitting room expecting congratulations.What I got was a smile far too bright for a man who had learned of his grandson’s engagement from a news alert.“Nikolai.” August’s voice was warm as honey and just as sticky. “How kind of you to visit.”“You asked us to come.”“I did. After I read about your engagement in my morning paper.” The smile didn’t waver. “Imagine my surprise. My own grandson, engaged, and I find out the same way the rest of the world does.”I bit the inside of my cheek. Beside me, Nikolai stood with his hands in his pockets, perfectly at ease, as though the old man’s displeasure were a gentle breeze.“We were going to tell you.”“Before or after the announcement?”“Before.”“Then you’ll forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Both men turned, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry. Please continue.”August’s eyes sharpened on his grandson. “A man who runs an empire should manage to

MIREYA SARAI ORLOVThe dress was heavier than I expected.Not the silk. The silk moved like water. It was the weight of what I was about to do, pressing down on my shoulders until I could feel it in my spine.Six months.I repeated it while the makeup artist dusted powder across my cheeks. Six months, and then it would be over. The reminder was supposed to steady me. Instead, my stomach tightened.“You’re nervous,” my mother said from behind me.“I’m not.”“You’re fidgeting.”“I’m adjusting my dress.”Her face appeared in the mirror beside mine, soft and glowing. “You look beautiful, milaya.”I looked at the bride in the glass, with her candlelight silk, her pearl-buttoned back, her veil spilling like frost behind her. I barely recognized her.“Thank you,” I whispered.My mother squeezed my shoulders. “Your father and I are proud of you.”My throat tightened. Then the door burst open, and a small whirlwind in a cloud of tulle charged inside.“Me too!”Cyril stood in the doorway in a l