Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
I crank my neck back to authenticate the anger in his snarled huff.
It is genuine. He looks seconds from ripping the contract out of my hand and tearing it in shreds, but for some reason, he doesn’t.
He issues me a brief goodbye before he enters the corridor before me, leaving me utterly speechless that I dodged his wrath for the second time in under twenty-four hours.
CHAPTER FIVE
“You’re still coming, right? We got our tickets with miles and are staying in a comped room, so accommodation and airfares are practically free. We just need to show up.” Zoya stops, gulps, then starts again. “And maybe buy the occasional meal. I’m sure there will be a market close by. We can pick up some instant noodles. You still like those, right?”
The coffees I ducked out to purchase for Alla and me go cold when I move to the side of the entrance of Myasnikov Private to offer my best friend the support she’s seeking. “I’m still technically a student, so even if I didn’t like them, I’d still have to eat them.”
She sighs in relief before getting down to the real reason she’s panicked. “Do you think it’s weird that I invited myself to her bachelorette party?”
“She’s your sister, Zoya. Your invitation is automatic.” Her breathing spikes again when I say, “Me, on the other hand…”
“You’re my sister. That makes your invitation automatic.”
“Maybe to your hen party, but I don’t know if it counts for your sister.”
“Our bond means she’s practically your half-sister. That’s close enough. I also really need you there. I don’t know how I’ll respond if Mother shows up.” She says “mother” exactly how you’d expect any child with a loathing disdain for the woman who raised her to. “It will be bad enough having to deal with her at the wedding.”
“She won’t be there. The Trudny District isn’t rich enough for her blood.” She huffs but doesn’t deny my claim. “And if she is, she can’t get to you without first going through me.”
“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why she is my sister without sharing an iota of my blood.” She shifts her focus from the imaginary people circling her to me. “I love you, Keet.”
“I love you too, Z. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. My bus should arrive around eight.” When she grimaces, I say, “If I had any other option, I’d take it, but an Uber is too expensive with all the new taxes they’ve tacked on, and I sold Gigi’s car last year to pay for Grampies’ medication.”
“I get it. I just…” When she realizes she is no better off than me, she tells me she loves me again before thanking me for always being there for her.
“Always. See you tonight.”
“You will. Bye.”
After storing my phone, I lift my eyes from the icy ground, startling when I spot Mr. Ivanov standing only a few feet across from me. He’s dressed in far more clothing than the last time I saw him. His impeccably tailored suit and crisp business shirt combination adds to his commanding authority. It doesn’t helm it.
He looks as in charge now as he did when he aided in my campaign to conduct Mrs. Ivanov’s diagnosis without her going under a scalpel, like a business mogul who could hand over tens of millions of millions as easily as he did the accolades that saw me offered a new position.
I shouldn’t say Dr. Sidorov’s offer was a new position. If I had accepted it, I would have done the same things I’ve always done. I would have just been paid more to do it.
After checking the time and noticing I still have ten minutes left on my lunch break, I dump the cold coffees into the trash before storing the donuts purchased to go with them in my oversized purse.
Once I’m sure my hair isn’t a mess and my lipstick isn’t smeared, I approach Mr. Ivanov. “Mr. Ivanov.”
When he spins to face me, the frantic beat of my heart drops several inches lower.
Between my legs, to be precise.
He looks angry, and his unexpected response to being accosted has me blubbering out the first excuse that pops into my head. “Sorry. I won’t take a minute of your time. I just wanted to—”
“Who is your friend, dear?”
Surprise blisters through me when Mrs. Ivanov’s svelte frame clears the wide girth of Mr. Ivanov’s shoulders. Then guilt settles in. With her coloring back to healthy and her eyes wide and bright, she is even more beautiful than first perceived. She could get any man she wants—even the one I’ve had numerous naughty dreams about over the past two weeks.
“This is Dr. Hoffman,” Mr. Ivanov introduces, his tone far smoother than mine. “The doctor I told you about.” His eyes are on me, hot and heavy. “Dr. Hoffman, this is my mother, Irina.”