Page 9 of Ruthless Serenade

Eva rips her arm from my grasp, her nails leaving angry red marks on my skin. "Don’t you dare feed me that bullshit, Maron. I see the way you undress every woman with your eyes! You salivate over every piece of ass that walks by!" Her voice rises to a shrill crescendo and her face is contorted with rage. "Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I don’t know you’re pulling away? Rachel says your behavior is textbook avoidance."

There it is. Fucking Rachel again. My jaw clenches at the mention of her name. Of course, she’s been analyzing me, probably dissecting every interaction Eva reports back to her. And knowing how close they are, she probably reports everything. The thought of it makes my blood boil.

Eva’s voice continues to rise. "Do you think I don’t know you’re still pining for your precious ex-girlfriend?"

My heart stops dead in my chest. What the fuck? Is it that obvious? How does she even know? Am I wearing my heart on my sleeve like some lovesick teenager?

"I know you still have feelings for her!" Eva is nearly shouting now, probably sensing my shock. "I know who she is!" I stare at her as she continues, "You want to hear her name from me? Mindy Williams! Rachel helped me figure it out."

Motherfucker!

The air leaves my lungs in a rush. How in the everloving fuck does she know that name? And Rachel’s involved? This is getting complicated. Too fucking complicated.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, sucking in a sharp breath. "That’s enough, Eva." My voice is low. "I’m not going to listen to your accusations."

Tears stream down her face, smearing her mascara into ugly black streaks. "Screw you, Maron! You’re a heartless monster!"

I shrug. I’ll take that. I’ve been called worse.

Eva fixes me with a glare that’s designed to turn me into stone. Her eyes shimmer with angry tears as she turns on her heel, and storms out of the room. Even through the closed door, her sobs echo through the house like a banshee’s wail.

And me? I guess I should feel guilty… or at least, I should feel some semblance of remorse for not giving her what she wants. But all I feel is annoyance. And I know I can’t continue doing this. I have to end things between us, and soon.

Driven by a sudden idea, I pull out my phone and open New York High’s website, my fingers moving deftly across the screen. With a few taps, I book a table for two.

New York High has changed a lot over the last seven years. They have a new management team and Kevin is no longer working with them. They even refurbished the place. The only thing they kept intact was the stage where Mindy used to perform. But that was a long time ago. These days they try to attract new and upcoming talent, musicians who will perform for free just to get their music heard.

Anyway, New York High is the perfect place to have a talk with Eva and put an end to our relationship. She’s a beautiful young woman and deserves a guy who is willing to give her what she wants. Unfortunately, that guy won’t be me.

Once the table is booked, I slip my phone back into my pocket and head upstairs. I find Eva in the bedroom, lying on the bed.

"Eva," I say, feeling like shit about the upcoming separation. I reach out to touch her shoulder, but she flinches away, her body tensing up like a coiled spring.

"Leave me alone, Maron," she snarls, her voice muffled by tears and anger. "I hate you."

I turn her back to face me. Her face is streaked with tears and smeared makeup, a sight that twists my gut. I fucking hate to do this, but I must. "We need to talk," I say. "I’ll take you out for dinner."

I feel uncharacteristically sorry for her. Like I’m the dirtiest cheat and liar. Which I am. But it’s time to cut this woman loose.

This relationship has become more trouble than it’s worth.

Chapter Three

Maron

As soon as Eva and I step into New York High, the memories of Mindy come flooding back, hitting me like a fucking freight train.

I glance at the stage where some broad is singing, but all I can see there is her. I can’t believe that her voice and her presence on stage still haunt me. My heart pounds in my chest so loud that I have to take a few deep breaths to calm the fuck down.

For fuck’s sake, Korolev!

That was seven years ago.

You’re here to break up with Eva, not reminisce about an old flame.

We slide into a booth where we can barely be seen. I try to focus on ordering the food, but I struggle to think straight with Eva yapping in my ear. She obviously misunderstood this whole dinner thing. She must believe that I brought her here for a make-up meal, with make-up sex to follow.

"I'll be back in a minute," she says with a tempting smile, her fingers grazing my arm. "Just going to fix my makeup." She sashays toward the restroom, her hips swaying in that way she knows drives all men wild. All men, except me.

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