Page 9 of Ruthless Reign

“Roman Vasiliev,” she purrs, her voice laced with a not-so-subtle invitation. “I had no idea you’d be here, but what a pleasant surprise.”

She leans in close to kiss my cheek, her lips practically grazing the corner of my mouth. I have to fight the urge to wipe the area with the back of my hand. Like most in her crowd, Katerina Petrovich is bold, brash, and endlessly seeking the spotlight.

I understand why women like her are drawn to me. They're after a thrill. Her life’s been one of comfort, every privilege offered to her on a silver platter. I’m the taste of danger she gets to boast about to her friends.

Half the gossip about my sexual exploits are made up. Concocted stories for socialites to flaunt at their cocktail parties. It usually doesn't bother me, but I don’t know… Lately, it’s been getting under my skin.

“Really, you had no idea I’d be here? At a party to celebrate the deal between our syndicate and your family?”

She shrugs. “I don’t pay attention to all the family business stuff. I have better things to do.”

I hold back an eye roll. Does this woman realize how vapid she sounds?

“Speaking of which, there’s this art event at the biennale this weekend. Why don’t you come with me? It’s supposed to be amazing.”

Next weekend I’ll be watching over Kira and a certain forbidden fruit in jolly old London. Which, truthfully, will be its own form of torture. Although not as painful as spending a few hours in Katerina’s presence.

“Sounds like a good time. You should ask Pavel—he loves avant garde art.” Lie. “Unfortunately, I’ll be working.”

Katerina frowns and bites her bottom lip in a gesture she probably thinks is sexy but is just irritating. “Oh.” Her gaze snaps to Pavel, and then back to me.

I’m man enough to admit that Pavel's a good-looking guy in a marauding Viking kind of way, but he lacks my charm. Not that he gives a shit, but ladies like a little flirting and banter. Still, neither of us is looking for a relationship. We know we're too messed up for anything beyond a fling.

Not long ago, I would've said the same thing about Maxim, but watching him fall in love with Kira has given me a new perspective. Still, if there’s a woman out there for me, I haven’t found her. And it’s certainly not the one standing in front of me.

“Maybe another time, then?” Katerina asks hopefully.

I search the room until my gaze collides with Liza. She’s shooting me eye darts full of poison, and her jaw is clenched so tight I’m concerned she might crack a tooth. Is she pissed that I'm talking to Katerina? No. But... maybe?

I decide to test this new theory by giving Katerina a big, flirty, dimple-flashing smile. “Sure, maybe another time.” I cross my arms in front of me in a way that I know makes my biceps pop. “What kinds of things do you like to do?”

She tilts her head in thought. “Shopping. Eating at the best restaurants. Going to the gym, obviously.”

“Wow, you really don't limit yourself, do you?”

Katerina nods, oblivious to my sarcasm.

I’m barely paying attention to a word she says because I’m enjoying this stare-off with Liza way too much.

A thrill buzzes under my skin. My lips tip up at the edge in a hint of a smile, which she returns with a scowl.

I used to think this game we played was all in my head, but I’m not so sure of that anymore. She’s as sweet as candy with everyone but me. I inspire defiance in her, and for some reason, that really fucking turns me on.

Katerina continues to talk at me, but I’m still laser-focused on Liza. Nothing good can come from this little game we play. I should probably end this now. Turn around and avoid her all night. But who am I kidding? That’s impossible.

Does Liza know I’m accompanying her and Kira to London in a few days' time? Probably not. If she did, I have a feeling she’d make her displeasure crystal clear.

Honestly, what fun would there be in ruining her surprise? I want nothing more than to see her face when she walks onto the plane and realizes she has to spend four whole days with the man she despises.

We all get our kicks somewhere.

CHAPTER FOUR

LIZA

I examine my reflection in the bathroom mirror, saying a little prayer that my dollar-store makeup hack worked to mask the bruise under my eye.

Feeling the onset of a headache, I dig in my clutch and take out two painkillers, popping them into my mouth and chasing them down with a gulp of champagne. Between having to act like I enjoy Anatoly’s presence and tolerating Roman and Katerina’s flirty vibe, tonight already feels never-ending, and we’re only in the second hour of the evening.

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