Page 124 of Sinful Bride

“Impossible.” He scoffs and waves off the accusation. We both know it’s a social death for them if it’s true. Which it is. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Really? So when the bill comes for this meal—” I gesture at his elegant array of caviar and oysters in their shells already halfway eaten. “—you’re the one paying for it? And not one of your senator friends or old business partners you’ve been blackmailing to financially support you?”

Ophelia finally finds her voice and tugs at my dress as she hisses, “That is enough! I will not have you humiliating us any further!”

“You’re doing a perfectly good job of that on your own.” I smack her hand away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. And you—both of you—will never set foot anywhere near me or my family ever again. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“You little?—”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Ophelia!”

She spins around in shock at the new voice behind her, a woman around her age who appears to be more than irritated. “Stacey! Please, you cannot believe?—”

“I can’t believe you have the balls to show your face in here. Either one of you.” Stacey sniffs and rolls her eyes, which starts a series of more sniffing and turning away from the Hamishes all throughout the club.

One by one, each of their former “friends” turns their back on my parents.

My work here is complete.

I saunter away from their table, my head held high and the weight of years of their abuses and humiliations finally lifting off me.

Every step feels lighter. Every breath of air feels cleaner.

“Luc?” A thought just occurred to me right when I was ready to leave. I turn to the host. “Please put their meals from today on my account. But I think, for everyone’s sake, their membership here should be revoked. I will not be paying for any future visits of theirs, and they cannot afford to eat here.”

Luc nods and pulls up the screen of his tablet. “Absolutely, Mrs. Chekhov. I’ve already alerted the manager.”

“Thank you.”

Lev gives me a questioning look. I shrug and step through the door he opens for me, instantly smiling when the warm sun kisses my skin.

“You know what I think it is?” I say to him as we wait for the valet to bring the car around. “Those two are horrible, selfish people. I’m not. And I want them to live the rest of their lives knowing Melanie and I will always be better than them.”

He grins. “I’d say you made that quite clear, Mrs. Chekhov.”

44

DAPHNE

Pasha cages me in against the kitchen island. “What have you been up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much.” I continue stirring the honey in my tea. “Went to work, ran some errands, humiliated my parents in front of everyone they’ve ever met and guaranteed they’ll never be able to show their faces in town again… The usual.”

Pasha’s hands pause on my hips. “Did you now?” he breathes at last.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

He turns me around to face him. His face is all I can see. Calm as ever, impassive, unflappable. Then he leans forward and kisses me. By his standards, it’s chaste.

That doesn’t stop me from melting into him.

When he pulls away, his tongue darts out to taste me on his lips. “Not at all. You’ve earned this victory a thousand times over. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He kisses me again. “Now, I need to jump in the shower. You should come join me so I can show you just how proud I am…”

“Nuh-uh!” Asya interrupts with a playful smack to his arm. “I just got Tatyanna down for her nap, and this is the first I’ve seen of my Daphne in a while. We’re having tea. You’re taking a cold shower—alone.” Asya hip-checks him out of the way. “Come, malyshka, before this man steals you away and we never get our tea.”