Page 56 of Shatter Me

“Let him live a little,” I say. “God knows he needs it.”

“Says the man who can’t go two hours without checking his phone for messages from a certain curator,” Nikolai mutters.

I glare at him, but thankfully, Alexi’s too busy making kissing noises at Erik through the window to notice. For once, I’m not the brother being teased, and I plan to enjoy it while it lasts.

22

TASH

Ipull my favorite cashmere sweater tighter around me, curled up on my couch with a glass of red wine and the latest acquisition reports spread across my coffee table. The words blur together as my mind drifts back to this morning. He just checked his phone and practically shoved me out the door like yesterday’s news.

My phone buzzes again with his fifth text in two hours. I don’t even glance at it. He can stew in his own arrogance for all I care.

A sharp knock at my door makes me jump, wine sloshing dangerously close to the reports. My heart rate spikes because I know that precise, commanding knock.

“Go away, Dmitri,” I call out, proud that my voice doesn’t waver.

“Open the door,kulkolka.” His voice carries through the wood, that infuriating calm tone that makes me want to throw something.

“I’m busy.” I turn up the volume on my jazz playlist, hoping he’ll take the hint.

Another knock, more insistent. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” I march to the door, anger propelling me forward. “What happened to ‘I’ll call you later’ before rushing me out this morning?”

“Open the door, and I’ll explain.”

“No.” I press my palm against the cool wood. “You don’t get to treat me like an inconvenience and then demand my attention whenever it suits you. I’m done playing your games.”

A pause. “Natasha.” The way he says my name is low, almost gentle, making my stomach flip. But I steel myself against it.

“Good night, Dmitri.” I turn away from the door, determined to ignore whatever he says next.

I freeze at the sound of the locks turning. That arrogant bastard is picking the lock to my apartment. The door swings open, and Dmitri steps inside casually holding a lockpick.

“Get out!” I snatch the nearest object—a decorative vase—and brandish it. “I swear to God, I’ll call the police.”

“And tell them what?” He shuts the door behind him. “That the board member you’ve been sleeping with used a key to enter your apartment?”

“That’s breaking and entering, you entitled prick.” I lift the vase higher. “Get out before I make that call.”

“You should change your locks.” He takes a step closer, eyes locked on mine. “They are embarrassingly easy to pick. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Worried about my safety now?” I back up until my legs hit the couch. “After treating me like some disposable toy this morning?”

“Put down the vase, kulkolka.”

“Don’t call me that. And don’t tell me what to do in my home that you just broke into.”

His jaw tightens. “I was merely testing your security. Really, for someone so wealthy I’d expect a far more superior security system.”

“Stop changing the subject! You can’t just barge here because you decided you want to talk now.” I grip the vase tighter. “What part of ‘go away’ wasn’t clear enough for you?”

His shoulders drop, and for the first time since I’ve known him, Dmitri looks... uncertain.

“My brothers needed me. An emergency with one of our investments required immediate attention.” He runs a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up in a way that makes my heart skip. “I wanted to explain this morning, but everything happened quickly.”

“You could have said something. Anything.” I lower the vase but keep my distance. “Instead of checking your phone and practically shoving me out the door.”

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