Page 36 of Koroleva

"And? You smell like a brothel whore! We're even."

"What do you want, Romeo?" she growled, squirming.

"The truth." Her gaze shone. "Why did you accept my father's proposal? Why did you want to marry me if you despise me so much? Why do you want to ruin my life with every one of your actions?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Despise you? I would have to feel something for you, and I don't give a damn about you." Her response stung. "Want a reason? I'll give you one: the hardness of the struggle determines the height of success."

I had heard that phrase before, just not from her, that damn mouth that tensed every cell in my body, whether I wanted it to or not. And there I was again, with a stiff zipper.

"That's not an answer."

"Of course, it is if you're smart enough to read between the lines. Nothing is going to stop me. I needed this alliance, for my family’s pharmaceutical company to restore its credibility after someone tried to ruin its reputation with the side effects of Mentium. My company was on the brink, so it needed the strength of another to turn the situation around. I want to know who is screwing me and why."

"You didn't need me for that, you could have married Putin's pick."

"You’re right, but he wouldn't have given me what I need." I don't know if she did it consciously or unconsciously, but she glanced at my mouth.

"And I do?" A humorless laugh burst from my throat.

"Indirectly, yes," she declared unabashedly. "Your father assured me that Tecnosalute would help. Besides compensating for the memory of Yuri and my father. I like power as much as he does. I gave him the chance to make the Costa del Sol ours, and he the tools I need. If I had accepted Putin’s proposal, my future husband would have stripped me of my decision-making power, Russians are very territorial and chauvinistic."

"Do you think Italians aren’t?"

"I don’t care how Italians are. What I know is that I have your father’s word, and as far as I know, he is a man of honor and the one in charge. Remember, my negotiations are with him, not you, you were just part of the package."

"Then you should have married him, not me. You might have agreed on something, but I’m your husband, and I can make things very difficult for you if you piss me off." Her breath brushed my mouth, and her hand touched my groin.

"You wish..." I stepped back, looking at her with disdain.

"Go to your room, I've had enough of putting up with you all day."

"It will be a pleasure, I’m exhausted. Good night, darling." She blew a kiss and walked down the stairs.

16

Good morning

I didn’t know what time it was, only that I had slept like a baby and that the sun was coming in through the window, leaving me blind.

I stretched in bed, enjoying the soft fabric that enveloped my body. My husband might lack many things, but he certainly had good taste in materials.

The towels were very soft and fluffy. The sheets were fresh and enveloping. The mattress and pillow lulled you into a good rest. In other words, it was clear that Romeo was a host who cared about his guests.

I searched for my phone. Eleven-thirty. It wasn't that late. I usually got up around eight, whether I had a busy night or not. It was rare for my body to ask for a few extra hours. I attributed it to the intensity of the past two days.

I sat up and assessed the furniture, something I hadn't had time to do the day before.

My room was decorated in cream tones. It had a nice vanity where I could place my creams, perfumes, and makeup. The bed I was in was spacious, with a headboard whose center lit up in the shape of a full moon.

Two pretty nightstands were on its side. In front, an armchair arranged for reading.

The room had access to a large terrace where a sun lounger with an umbrella, a table with a couple of wrought iron chairs were visible, and from which you could see the pool area, including the sea if you leaned out.

The room also featured a large walk-in closet and a full bathroom with a bathtub placed next to a window that looked out onto the vegetation. It was tall, made of white porcelain, in which I would immerse myself on more than one occasion. Additionally, there was also a shower tray occupying one side of the wall, in case you didn't feel like wasting time.

I stepped out onto the balcony to let the sun greet me good morning. I loved feeling it directly on my skin. In St. Petersburg, sometimes, it was rare to see. The climate was not like Marbella's.

I leaned on the balustrade and saw that Romeo, his sister, Massimo, Adriano, my mother, and my sisters were having a snack.

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