Page 80 of Inked Adonis

The screaming continues as I walk her through the last two weeks—adeptly maneuvering around the kidnapping, extortion, and possible murder that may or may not have occurred.

As my recap comes to a close with only the most surface-level highlights from the dinner, drive home, and bath from last night, Hope lets out a long, low whistle. “You lucky, lucky bitch. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or wildly jealous. Actually, I’ve decided,” she announces. “It’s both. Mark my words, you’re gonna have a ring on your finger by Christmas.”

I shake my head. Moving in with Samuil has already maxed out my brain’s ability to process major life changes. If I try to think about anything beyond that, my neurons might go on strike.

Hope has no such issues, though. She opens her laptop, prattling on about the pros and cons of lab-grown diamonds, when suddenly, she freezes mid-sentence.

“Hope…?”

She blinks away from the screen and tries on a thin smile. “Sorry. Just checking reviews.”

“Since when? You think reviews are public journals for the miserable. You never check them.”

“Well, things changed while you were gone.”

My heart drops. Hope told me she would be fine without me, and I was distracted enough to believe her. But all the signs are there now that I should’ve called bullshit.

I know Hope. I know that fake tremble in her smile. I know that she wrings her hands when she lies. I know when she’s good and when she’s not.

And right now, she’s one stubbed toe away from a total mental breakdown.

“I’m so sorry, Hope. I should’ve— I’ve been rambling on about me, but I didn’t even think to ask what happened while I was gone.”

Hope chews on the inside of her cheek. “I’ll tell you, but don’t freak out, okay?”

“Too late. I’m freaked. Tell me what’s happening.”

“Katerina Alekseeva paid me a visit two days ago.”

She might as well have said the specter of death floated in for a chat. “Hope! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” she says. “Plus, it took me this long to recover. That woman is terrifying.”

“She attacked you?!” Katerina may be scary, but I’m instantly prepared for a no-holds-barred fight to the death if she so much as touched Hope.

“Verbally. And emotionally. In some ways, I might have preferred she hit me. She’s tall, but I could take her. She probably hasn’t eaten carbs since 2010.”

“This is about Rufus, isn’t it?” The guilt-snake around my ribs squeezes tighter. “God, this is all my fault.”

“Well, it’s sort of your fault,” she admits. “But Rufus is just the appetizer. The main course—the thing really eating her up inside—is that you’re fucking her ex.”

My jaw drops. “How could she possibly know that?”

“I’m sure she has evil, judgmental eyes everywhere.” Hope shrugs. “In any case, her issue isn’t that you’re walking her dog—it’s that you’re riding her man.”

“Sam is not ‘her man.’”

“Because he’s yours?” she asks coyly.

I roll my eyes, hoping she doesn’t notice my blush. “Focus, Hope. What did Katerina want?”

“Sam’s balls on a platter, your head on a spike, and for the world to worship at her feet.” When I continue to stare at her blankly, she sighs. “Revenge, NoNo. She wants revenge.”

“She wants me fired?”

Hope nods. “I told her to get bent, obviously. But then she threatened to unleash social media hell and bury us in legal fees. I’ve been glued to the screen, waiting for her army of paid trolls to descend. And now, descend they have. It’s a bloodbath.”

I launch to my feet. “I’ll quit. Right now. I’ll write a resignation letter in my own blood if I have to. Call her and tell her I’m gone. Your business can’t go down because of my?—”

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