Page 110 of Ruthless Lullaby

I take a deep breath and push down my doubts. I know I can’t keep doing this to myself. My focus is all over the place. If this continues, it will start affecting other areas of my life and I can’t afford that. Especially not with the Tramoxine launch in the pipeline.

Time to focus on what's real. And what's real is this: Mindy Williams is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I'll be damned to let my own bullshit fuck that up. Every second I spend without her is like a knife twisted in my chest. I can't take it anymore. I need her by my side. Now.

Fueled by a newfound resolve, I snatch up my phone and furiously punch in Kevin's number. My heart hammers against my ribcage as I listen to the ringing, praying for him to pick up.

“Mr. Korolev?” His voice finally comes through the line. “What can I do for you?”

“Is Mindy Williams performing tonight?” I snarl into the receiver, skipping formalities and cutting through the small talk.

Kevin's voice crackles through the phone, barely audible amidst the chaotic cacophony of the club. "She's halfwaythrough her set," he says, and I feel a surge of desperate hope flood its way through me.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” I reply with urgency. “Don’t let her leave before I get there.”

I hang up before Kevin can respond, unable to waste another precious second. My heart pounds as I imagine Mindy on stage, pouring her heart out through her music. I storm out of my office and head to my clothes wardrobe with one singular purpose in mind: to see Mindy Williams.

My cock stiffens in my slacks, throbbing with an insatiable hunger for her. Right now, I don’t give a damn why she fled. That's irrelevant to me now. All that matters is finding her and claiming her as mine. Every fiber, every fucking cell in my being is consumed by the desire to be near her, to hear her voice and feel her presence. Nothing else matters.

I come to a sudden halt as something occurs to me. When I ordered the sex toys, I didn't send everything to her; I kept one item for myself.

The gag ball.

Perfect. Just in case things go terribly right.

I quickly retrieve it from the drawer I hid it in and slip it into my pocket. After throwing on a white t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket, I rush off to New York High, eager to put my plan into action.

It’s already late and there are fewer cars on the road now. Ignoring all traffic laws, I speed down the streets without a care for the consequences. The blaring horns and flashing lights blur together as I weave through the half-empty streets. I know I'm probably racking up a fortune in speeding tickets and riskingmy license. Hell, I might even end up in cuffs if a cop decides to chase me down. But none of that matters right now. I've got lawyers to handle that shit. Right now, all that matters is getting to New York High as fast as I can.

Mindy Williams is worth any price I'll have to pay.

Chapter Forty-Two

Maron

I slip into New York High through a discreet side entrance and scan the room for Mindy.

The stage is empty. The music has ended, except for the light jazz coming through the speakers. I order a whiskey and slide into a booth with a view of the stage, but hidden from sight. I pull out my phone and fire a message to Kevin to meet me at my booth. Two minutes later, the man walks up to me with a jovial smile on his face and a tray in his hands.

"Mr. Korolev," Kevin greets me as he sets down the tray with my whiskey and some ice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where is she?" I ask, ignoring the formalities.

"Mindy? She'll be back on stage in five minutes," Kevin responds calmly. "The audience wanted a few extra songs. She’s just having a short break." He gives me a knowing half-smile. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I shake my head and wave him off. He told me all I needed to know.

"Then, enjoy your evening, sir.” Kevin nods and stands up, understanding it’s time for him to leave me alone.

I murmur a ‘thank you’ as he leaves, my fingers tapping impatiently on the table. The minutes that pass by feel like hours as I wait for Mindy to make her entrance. The stage is lit up likea goddamn target, a blinding spotlight in the dim underworld of the bar.

And then, she appears.

Mindy Williams, the woman of my dreams, strides onto the stage in a skin-tight gold dress that clings to her every curve, accentuating her stunning figure. She looks like she’s stepped straight out of a dream - voluptuous curves, an hourglass figure, and an irresistibly ample bosom. Her body exudes raw sensuality, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. She’s a living masterpiece, a fucking work of art.

Her long, golden hair cascades down her back like a pristine waterfall, caught in the glimmer of the stage lights. Her flawless skin shimmers under the spotlight, begging to be touched.

I realize she's wearing one of the dresses I bought for her. The recognition sends a conflicting wave of warmth and pain through my ice-cold heart. It's a bittersweet reminder of what we had, what we could have, and what might be lost.

As she approaches the microphone, her full lips curve into a smile. But I notice a hint of sorrow, a flicker of pain behind her professional style. I'm sure I’m the only one who can see it.

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