Page 35 of Shatter Me

Her cheeks flush. "I didn't?—"

"Don't lie to me. I see right through you." I trace my finger down her neck, feeling her shiver. "You're angry that I left you alone in that office. That I maintained professional distance at the board meeting. So you decided to push my buttons."

"Go to hell."

"Such fire." I chuckle against her ear. "But we both know the truth. You orchestrated this entire scenario. Led Matthews on, made sure I was watching, then wandered off alone, knowing he would follow. Knowing I would follow."

Her silence confirms my words. I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, finding defiance mixed with desire in those green depths.

"Next time you want my attention," I murmur, "try asking for it instead of playing games. It's less likely to end with me having to dispose of a body."

Her eyes widen at my comment. "What do you mean by 'dispose of a body'?"

I trace my thumb across her bottom lip, savoring the way her eyes flutter shut. "Anyone who touches what belongs to me pays the price,kulkolka. Matthews is lucky I was feeling merciful tonight."

"I don't belong to you." Her voice wavers, betraying her uncertainty.

"No?" I lean in, letting my lips hover a breath away from hers. The heat of her skin calls to me, begging me to close that final distance. To claim what's mine.

Instead, I pull back, denying us both. Her frustrated exhale sends a surge of satisfaction through my chest.

"You're an arrogant bastard," she snaps, hands clenched.

"And you're beautiful when you're angry." I step away, watching color flood her cheeks. The way her chest heaves with indignation. "Keep telling yourself you don't belong to me. We both know the truth."

I turn and walk away, leaving her fuming in the hallway. Her rage follows me like perfume, sweet and intoxicating. She's not the only one who knows how to play games.

14

TASH

Ipull up to Nikolai's penthouse in an Uber, carefully balancing the three bottles of vintage Bordeaux I'd picked up. The doorman recognizes me immediately, nodding as he opens the door.

"Evening, Ms. Blackwood."

The private elevator whisks me up to the top floor. Before I can knock, Sofia flings open the door, her face lighting up.

"Finally! I'm starving, and the Thai food just arrived." She pulls me into a hug, taking one of the wine bottles. "Château Margaux? You didn't have to go all out."

"Please, like I'd bring anything less to our girls' night." I kick off my Louboutins by the door, breathing in the aromatic scents of curry and pad thai wafting from the kitchen. "It's nice having the place to ourselves."

Sofia has already changed into silk pajamas, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. The penthouse feels different without Nikolai's commanding presence—lighter somehow, more relaxed.

"I ordered all your favorites." Sofia leads me to the kitchen, where food containers cover the marble island. "Red curry, spring rolls, and that coconut soup you're obsessed with."

"You're an angel." I set down the other bottles and grab plates from the cabinet I know by heart now. "How'd you convince him to give you up for the night?"

"Oh, you know." Sofia grins, uncorking one of the wines. "I have my ways. Plus, he can't deny me anything these days."

I pull out two crystal wine glasses. "The perks of being Mrs. Ivanov."

We settle onto Sofia's plush sectional, plates balanced on our laps. The city sparkles through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a perfect backdrop for girl talk and wine.

"God, I needed this." I take a long sip of the Bordeaux, letting the rich flavors dance on my tongue. "The museum board's been brutal lately."

Sofia picks at her pad thai. "Speaking of the board... have you noticed anything strange with Dmitri recently?"

My chopsticks freeze halfway to my mouth. "Strange how?"

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