Page 135 of Ruthless Lullaby

"This is the opening ceremony of a film, miss. You are at the wrong event."

Alexis flashes her brightest smile. "I can assure you, Mr. Korolev, Iamat the right event." She presses on. "How do you address concerns about your illegal activities and how does this affect your public image?"

Illegal activities?

Motherfucker!

I can see what she’s doing from a mile away, but I refuse to take the bait. "Unfortunately, rumors and misinformation are all too common in my line of work," I tell her calmly. "I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves rather than engaging in speculation."

I push past her in an attempt to end the conversation, but she’s back in front of me before I can disappear. Then she delivers the final blow.

"Mr. Korolev, can you provide any information about the alleged sex contract between yourself and Mindy Williams and its implications?"

Blyad.

This is bad.

Very fucking bad.

I’m lost for words. How she got wind of this information is fucking beyond me. Except it’s not. The worst thing about this isn’t the question itself or the fact that she’s asking it in front of a thousand people. The worst thing is that only two people are supposed to know about my contract with Mindy. Just Mindyand me. And I certainly haven’t ever mentioned it to anyone. Which can only mean…

She betrayed you, mudak.

She told her sister about the contract.

She also told her about Tramoxine.

And now, the fucking press knows.

I want to explode with rage. It takes every fucking ounce of control I have to force a professional smile and answer her question without lashing out and doing something that would only make matters worse. Could Mindy really do this to me? After everything we’ve been through? Maybe it’s all a misunderstanding. Maybe there is an explanation to all of this.

"I'm afraid I cannot comment on baseless rumors," I tell Alexis, forcing calmness into my tone. "This is a film premiere, miss. Let’s keep our focus on that." My eyes scan the crowd, looking for a way out. "And now, if you'll excuse me…"

"What about these photos then?" She motions to her phone and shoves it in my face. "Are you saying these are mere fabrications as well, Mr. Korolev?"

I can’t fucking believe she’s doing this. I seriously want to kill her in the most gruesome way possible. Her phone displays the damning naked photos she took of Mindy and me, when she walked in on us in the dressing room of New York High. I asked Pavel to take care of those photos and he did. I was under the impression that my IT team had eradicated them entirely.

Blyad!

What a colossal fuckup!

The bitch is smart, I’ll give her that. She probably backed up the images before Pavel had the IT guys remotely delete them from her device. That’s the only reasonable explanation. Maybe I should have had Pavel eradicate the woman as well, not just the photos.

My mind races as the gravity of my situation sinks in. Alexis stands in front of me with her microphone in my face, eagerly waiting for an answer. Her cameraman stands behind her, filming every fucking moment of this conversation. A cold fury seeps into my bones. How could I have been so fucking careless?

But I know the answer already. I couldn't bear to hurt Mindy. If it wasn’t for her, I would have gotten rid of Alexis and the threat she poses. Except I fucking didn’t. And now she’s here, doing her best to destroy me and everything I worked for.

My heart pounds in my chest as my mind frantically scrambles for the right answer. But it's already too late. The damage has already been done and there is no way back. We’re live on TV and viewers are going to talk about this. The press is going to talk about this. My name is going to be in the headlines tomorrow. It’s very likely that she just fucked up this entire event.

"I will not entertain questions about some manipulated photos, miss," I state firmly, my eyes narrowing as I stare at her with a look that is designed to freeze blood.

"But Mr. Korolev-" she wants to continue, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture. My fists clench at my sides and my heart is hammering in my chest as I search for one of my security guys. When I spot a burly thug nearby, I wave at him. "Get this bitchoutta’ here," I growl in his ear, making sure the reporters can’t hear me.

The moment I finally manage to fight my way through the crowd of journalists, my rage explodes like a bomb. The blood is boiling in my veins, pulsing with a fucking vengeance. There are shocked and disgruntled gazes following me, but I don’t care anymore. All that matters is escaping this suffocating mob and getting through the evening without another royal fuckup.

My entire body is itching to confront Mindy with a barrage of questions. I just fucking hope she has a valid explanation for all of this, but I doubt she does. How else would her fucking sister know about our contract? Or about Tramoxine? I certainly haven’t told anyone, especially not that junkie bitch.

Whatever the case, I must get to the bottom of this shitshow.

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