Page 91 of Koroleva

"What?"

"Just my thoughts." I didn’t want to reveal what I had seen until I was sure they weren’t just my hallucinations.

The song ended and we were met with applause. We greeted the enthusiastic crowd, who returned to their own activities, and Salvatore kissed my hand.

Romeo nearly yanked my arm off before I could even say goodbye.

"A pleasure, Nikita!" he exclaimed as I was dragged to the other end of the terrace.

"Likewise." I couldn't say more, as I was being swept away by my husband's hurricane.

Romeo was gripping me excessively hard. If he kept squeezing like this, my forearm would bruise by morning.

"Stop! Let go!" I halted him by shaking off. "You're hurting me!" I protested.

He let go and grabbed a couple of glasses of champagne that were being carried by a waiter on a tray.

"What the hell was that?!" he bellowed with a strained voice, handing me one of the glasses.

"A dance."

"You call that a dance? You were screwing him in the middle of the floor!"

"For God's sake, Romeo! Don't talk nonsense. I did what the song required."

"And did that include rubbing against Salvatore like a bitch?"

"Jealous?" I challenged, draining the bubbly liquid down my throat.

"Not even joking," he finished his own, "but I don't like being made a fool of." My hand zigzagged across his broad chest, which heaved in frustration.

"The only one making a fool of himself is you with this excessive display of jealousy. What’s wrong, amore? Since when are you and I exclusive to each other?" I pressed against his body, admiring that clenched jaw.

"Don't mess with me, Nikita."

"Is that what you want?" I provoked him. "For me to be only yours? Because I remind you that's not what we agreed on, and I belong to myself, married or not, you'd do well not to forget that." I went to kiss him and he turned his face away.

"If you want to kiss someone, go find my cousin," he declared, stepping away. "Enjoy the night, I will too."

Romeo turned and walked away, leaving me with a bittersweet feeling in my stomach.

37

I'm not going to apologize

Aleksa

I looked at the Russian discreetly. We had been at each other like cat and dog all day, and in the end, he opted for something that drove me crazy: indifference.

He was sitting in the passenger seat, frowning and with his arms crossed.

He had been angry since yesterday, and the atmosphere between us couldn't be more hostile. I understood his level of anger; it must not have been pleasant for the guy you just slept with to treacherously inject you with a dose of pentothal, but it was part of my job, he of all people should understand that.

"Are you going to sulk forever?" I asked irritably. I got no response, he completely ignored me. "Let me get this straight," I sighed patiently, "Are you mad at me for doing my job well?" He turned his face and threw a grenade with those huge, expressive eyes.

"You have no fucking clue about anything, so you better drop it." I grimaced.

"Why?"

---