Page 57 of Deceitful Vows

After???

The vibe switches back to playful when he replies.

Mikhail:

Are we really going there, Sunshine? All right. Bruise my ego some more by making out you’ve yet to realize no other man can compete with me.

My reply is so natural I type it out before my head can formulate a single objection.

Me:

You sound just like your brother.

My eyes’ quick scan of the last word mercifully saves me from making a mistake. I move my thumb to the delete button instead of the send.

I’m partway through deleting my reply when my phone commences ringing. It is a video call request from Mikhail. I consider pretending my battery is flat since my mood is circling the drain, but that excuse flies out the window when a message pops up in the middle of the screen.

Mikhail:

Marshmallow Man’s rolls are reflective, and my phone’s zoom capabilities are the best in the country, so don’t even try to pretend your battery is flat.

Mikhail laughs when he catches the last half of my eye roll. “Some men in my industry would see that as a challenge.” He tilts closer to the camera, filling the screen. “Are you challenging me, Sunshine?”

Weeks of uncertainty slip away as I reply, “Would you call me a hussy if I said yes?”

“Fuck no.” He looks like he wants to say more, but something behind my shoulder alters the direction of our conversation. “Are you outside?” Before I can answer, he asks another question. “What time is it there?”

I cringe. “A little after four.”

“In the morning? How many buses did you take to get home?” He slants his head, draws his brows together, and then mutters, “Actually, don’t answer that.”

I hear the words he didn’t speak the loudest, and they hurt.

“He could have found me by now if he wanted to.”

Mikhail sighs while sinking back far enough for me to realize where he is. He’s sitting on the armchair Andrik placed me on before he suspended my pussy on his face. “I know. I just…” Again, he breathes out heavily. This one arrives with a heap of cusswords. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him. He’s acting like nothing matters more right now than producing the next…”

When my expression announces he’s discussing his brother’s downfalls with the wrong person, his words trail off.

I smile to assure him I am grateful before telling him I have to go. “My bus is almost here.”

“Bus? You’re taking the fucking bus at this time of night? I don’t care if you live in the safest neighborhood in the world—no one is safe on public transport at four in the morning!”

Hetsksme when I say, “It isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“Zoya… fuck. You’re making my hands twitch, and I’m not a man who generally uses spankings as a form of punishment.”

“Now you really sound like your brother,” I reply before I can stop myself.

The crunch of my back molars is nowhere near as damaging as it could be when Mikhail asks, “Am I meant to take that as a compliment?”

“No,” I reply honestly. “But you need to come up with your own material. You’re one infringement away from a copyright claim.”

He howls like a wolf. I only get to bask in its brilliance for mere seconds. My phone has plenty of battery. It is just no longer in my possession since it is plucked from my grasp seconds after I arrive at the bus stop—stolen along with my purse and the last of my cash.

“Hey!” I scream at the man dressed head to toe in black sprinting in the direction I just came.

I’m about to take off after him, when the faintest sob stops me in my tracks. A woman is crouched next to the scratched display banner edging a recently graffitied bench.

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