Page 42 of Split

“Do you think it’s haunted?” she asks excitedly.

Definitely.“Maybe,” I shrug.

Cherie’s eyes suddenly pop wide, as if a lightbulb has just gone off in her head. “Oh my gosh, you should host a big Halloween party here!” she suggests eagerly. “I know it’s less than a month away, but you wouldn’t even have to do much to decorate, this place already has the perfect vibe.”

“We do have a ballroom,” I muse, fingering the stem of my empty wine glass and wishing Clara would hurry back with the new bottle. Discussing my prison so casually definitely warrants more wine.

“Seriously?” Cherie gasps, blinking her big hazel eyes at me. “Okay, then youdefinitelyneed to have a party.”

“We’ll see,” I chuckle, exhaling a breath of relief when Clara steps out onto the terrace with a bottle of white in her grasp. Swinging my gaze back over to Cherie, I add, “Like I said, my husband enjoys his privacy.”

“Don’t they all?” she sighs, lips curving in a mischievous smirk. “Okay, that’s a lie, Anton’s as flashy as they come. You know he bought me this gaudy thing just so he could show it off?” She raises her left hand, the obscenely large yellow diamond on her finger glittering as it catches the light. “I’m not even big on canary diamonds, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him when he gave it to me. He said his rare jewel deserved one of her own…” she leans in, narrowing her eyes, “which would be a whole lot sweeter if he didn’t always recycle that line with his business associates just so he can brag about how much it cost him.”

The two of us share a laugh as Clara refills our glasses, leaving us with the bottle and heading back inside. Reaching for my wine, I eye the massive rock sitting on my own ringfinger, suddenly wishing I had a cute anecdote to add to our conversation. Somehow, I doubt even Cherie could romanticize Roman tossing the ring box at me in the back of a car and demanding I put it on.

“Does Anton ever work with Niko?” I ask casually, changing the subject to avoid her asking about my own proposal– or lack thereof.

“Sometimes,” she shrugs. “He typically deals with Roman directly. Hierarchy, and all that.” She waves a hand dismissively as she takes a big sip of wine, her delicate throat bobbing with her swallow as she lowers her glass and licks the residue from her lips. “I don’t typically go for blondes, but for Niko, I’d make an exception. That man cangetit.”

Yeah he can.A blush unwittingly rises to my cheeks, which I quickly cover up by raising my glass and downing more wine.

“He must be over here a lot for how closely he works with the Volkovs, huh?” Cherie muses.

I nod as I swallow, setting my glass back down on the table in front of me. “Yeah, he said he was practically raised here. Something about their fathers being in business together, I think.”

Cherie shrugs, evidently not knowing any more about the inner workings of the organization than I do.Pity. “Anton’s second is a complete ogre,” she remarks, grimacing. “You should count yourself lucky for the eye candy. Not that you need it, considering who you’re married to.”

“Speaking of,” I mumble, darting a quick glance toward the door to ensure nobody’s listening in. “You mentioned at dinner that you knew Roman’s ex?”

Cherie gives me a pitying look as she nods. “I only met her once. So sad what happened. But hey, at least he foundyou, right?”

She knows something.

I sit up straighter, opening my mouth to ask what happened to the woman I replaced when I startle at the sound of a throat clearing, whipping my head side sideways to see Roman and Anton emerging from the manor.

“Sorry to cut this short, ladies, but we’ve had some urgent business come up and Anton needs to get back to the city,” Roman informs us as the two of them stride in our direction, looking like a pair of GQ models in their well-tailored suits.

Cherie looks to her husband, shoving her lower lip out in a pout of protest.

“Tell me you’re not on your second bottle,” Anton murmurs as he advances toward her, a teasing lilt to his tone.

Her lips split into a wide grin. “Guilty,” she giggles, batting her lashes and tossing back her dark hair.

“We really should get going then, she’s far too chatty when she drinks wine,” Anton jokes, sliding Roman a smirk.

“I was enjoying our chat,” I say with a genuine smile. “Your wife’s lovely.”

“Don’t I know it,” Anton quips. He pulls Cherie up from her seat, yanking her in close and smacking a kiss on her lips.

“We’ll walk you out,” Roman murmurs as he comes over to my chair and extends a hand toward me.

I place mine in his and he helps me to my feet like a perfect gentleman, guiding me away from the table with a hand on the small of my back. I’m actually grateful for it since I’m a bit wobbly after all the wine. It feels like I’m floating alongside Roman as we lead our guests through the manor to the foyer, Cherie chattering animatedly the entire way. When we go to say our goodbyes, she catches me off guard by throwing her arms around my neck, yanking me in for a hug like we’re best friends.

“Next time, dinner at our place,” she insists as she pulls back from the embrace, dazzling me with one last smile.

“Absolutely,” I agree, nodding emphatically.

Anton ushers her out the door with a muttered apology to Roman, who closes it behind them and engages the deadbolt before turning to face me, his expression impassive.

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