Page 61 of Savage Reign

What the hell am I doing? I’ve let myself soften. I’ve let her distract me, and it has to stop.

I stand, hardening my expression. “If the headache comes back, tell Yelena to call the doctor.”

As I turn to leave, her eyes drop to the bag in my hand.

“Is that from Yumiko?”

No point denying it now. I pass her the bag without a word.

Before we left the boutique, I made Valeria track down the best dancewear money could buy. Somehow, she managed to source it all within hours, and one of my men picked it up.

Sofiya looks up at me, her eyes glassy, as she pulls each leotard from the bag one by one. She lays them carefully on the bed beside her—black with mesh panels, deep burgundy with delicate straps, and a shimmering dark green that catches the light. A pair of contemporary dance half-soles fall out next. Not that I know anything about dance shoes. Valeria thought they’d be helpful for Sofiya to have. Her fingers brush over the fabrics.

“I don’t know what to say.” Her gaze remains fixed on the leotards, and I can’t read her expression.

I shrug, keeping my tone flat. “It’s nothing.”

As my sharp tone lingers in the quiet between us, I know my actions reveal way more than I’d like them to.

Her eyes shutter. “I’m not exactly going to take the dance world by storm while I’m held prisoner here.”

“Whether you dance or not is not my concern. You have the leotards. Use them if you want to.”

I storm from the room—annoyed at her but even more annoyed at myself for letting her get under my skin in the first place.

An hour later, I’m in my office, neck-deep in the endless shitstorm of paperwork that comes with running my empire, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I say, still staring at my computer screen.

Emil steps inside, hesitating in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says. “Thought you’d want to know that Igor showed up unannounced. He just passed through the front gates.”

My teeth clench as I sit back in my chair. My phone’s been on silent all afternoon, and when I glance at it now, Igor’s name flashes on the missed calls screen. He’s the last person I want to see right now, and I’m irritated by how I left things with Sofiya earlier, but he’s here, and I can’t blow him off.

“I appreciate the heads-up.” I nod at Emil in dismissal, but he doesn’t step back.

“By the way, I meant to say thanks for letting me join the meeting with Igor earlier,” Emil adds, shifting his weight. “It was valuable.”

“Good,” I say, distracted by Igor’s surprise appearance. “Any idea what he’s doing here right now?”

Emil shrugs. “I get the feeling he likes dealing with you directly.”

I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand down my face. It’s standard for my second-in-command to handle meetings I skip, but Igor is old school. He doesn’t trust secondhand updates.

Heavy footsteps echo down the hallway. Emil straightens up as Igor’s frame fills the doorway. He’s built like a tank, his tailored gray suit doing nothing to soften the sharp lines of his shoulders.

“That’ll be all, Emil,” I say, standing to greet Igor. The two men exchange a brief, unreadable look before Emil nods and slips out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Igor strides toward me, unbuttoning his jacket with a deliberate tug as he crosses the room.

I round the desk and extend a hand. “I didn’t realize you’d be stopping by tonight.”

“A business matter has come up that requires an in-person discussion,” Igor says, his tone edged. “And since I missed you earlier, I thought I’d drop by. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I say, gesturing to a chair. “Sit. I’ll pour us a drink.”

Igor’s calculating stare tracks me as I cross to the bar. “Busy day?”

I don’t know what he’s getting at, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of riling me. “It was productive.”

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