Page 90 of Ivory Oath

It might as well be.

My skin is hot and prickly with days’ worth of frustration simmering under the surface. The intensity notches even higher when Mikhail finally deigns to look at me.

“You’re really going to disappoint him because you’re mad at me?” I snarl viciously. “Whatever is going on with us, I didn’t think you’d let it affect your relationship with?—”

Before I can even finish, Mikhail turns… and walks away.

I gawk at his broad shoulders and long legs as he takes the stairs casually, pretending I don’t even exist.

I’m stunned, but I’m not hurt.

No, I’m too angry to be sad.

I stand motionless for one second, five, ten. Then the sound of his office door snicking closed snaps me out of it.

Anatoly told me to give Mikhail time. He’ll come around, he said.

I charge up the stairs, my hands in tight fists at my sides. If he doesn’t want to come around, that’s fine. I’ll bring him around.

For the first time in his entire life, Mikhail Novikov doesn’t get a choice.

38

VIVIANA

Thankfully, Mikhail’s office door is unlocked. If it wasn’t, I probably would have slammed face first into it, which would have lessened the overall effect. As it is, the door flies open hard enough it bounces off the wall and I’m steaming in the doorway.

Mikhail doesn’t even look up.

He’s sitting behind his desk, his hand wrapped around a crystal glass like it’s the only thing keeping him on the ground. His knuckles are white.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m busy,” he grits out.

I slam his office door closed behind me. “Then we better talk fast.”

Mikhail lifts his head slowly, moving with practiced ease that sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes meet and hold mine.

This is a good idea, I tell myself. I truly believe that. Even as the anger inside of me shifts into something flushed and uncertain. Even as I fidget from one foot to the other, trying to decide how to stand my ground while he’s pummeling me with his icy blue eyes. Mikhail is my husband and we have to talk this out. I press my shoulders back and meet his glare with one of my own. “You can ignore me if you want, but?—”

“Apparently, I can’t.” He gestures to where I’m standing in the doorway.

I huff and continue. “But you can’t ignore Dante.”

“I was going to spend time with him, but you couldn’t walk away. You can’t tell him no.”

“So you’d rather disappoint him than be in the same room with me?”

He leans forward, hissing his words with a shocking amount of venom. “I’d rather disappoint him than let you use yet another child to get my attention.”

Baggage, I remind myself. If Anatoly was here, he’d remind me of that, too.

So many people in Mikhail’s life have lied to him and manipulated him. He’s trained to assume the worst in people. Even though his words land like a sharp jab to my sternum, I stifle the pain and try to rise above it.

Then, I very promptly tunnel directly underneath it.

“And I’d rather get a false positive on a pregnancy test than have another kid that you’ll ignore whenever it suits you.”

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