Page 67 of Shatter Me

Sofia reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’ve never felt like this.” The admission comes easier than I expected. “He’s brilliant and complex and...” I lower my voice. “The sex is mind-blowing.”

“Details!” Sofia demands, making me laugh.

“A lady never kisses and tells.” I sip my coffee, remembering this morning’s shower. “But let’s just say he’s very... thorough.”

“I knew it.” Sofia sits back, triumphant. “The controlled ones always are.”

I think of Dmitri’s perfect suits and measured words, how that control crumbles when we’re alone. He whispers things in Russian against my skin that make me shiver even when I don’t understand them.

“He’s not what anyone thinks,” I say softly. “There are so many layers to him. Just when I think I’ve figured him out, he shows me something new.”

“Just... be careful, Tash.” Sofia’s expression shifts. “The Ivanovs dangerously possessive. Once you are with one, there’s no going back. Dmitri won’t let you go easily.”

I open my mouth to protest when her phone chimes. The smile drops from her face as she reads whatever message just came through.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, she turns her phone around. My stomach plummets as I read the headline: “Russian Oligarch’s Latest Acquisition: Museum Curator Caught in Late Night Rendezvous.”

Below is a photo of Dmitri and me leaving L’Artisan last night. His hand rests possessively on my lower back as he guides me to his car. The article speculates about our “affair” and questions my position at the museum, suggesting improper influence over acquisitions.

“How did they...” I scroll through the article. “We were so careful.”

“Someone must have tipped them off.” Sofia’s voice is gentle. “You know how these vultures operate.”

I think of Dmitri’s warnings about privacy and his insistence on discretion. Now I understand why. Every detail of my life is being picked apart—my career, background, and friendship with Sofia is under scrutiny.

“The board meeting is tomorrow.” My voice sounds distant to my own ears. “They’re going to see this.”

“Dmitri will handle it,” Sofia assures me. “He always does.”

But I’m not so sure. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. The careful balance we’ve maintained between professional and personal is shattered. And somewhere in the city, Dmitri is probably seeing this same article, his carefully constructed world of privacy cracking around the edges.

My phone buzzes with a text from him.

Don’t read the news. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.

“He’s coming to get me?” I show Sofia the text. “Why? It’s just a trashy article.”

Sofia’s perfectly manicured fingers tap against her coffee cup, her expression guarded in a way I’ve never seen before. “There are... complications.”

“What kind of complications?”

She takes a careful sip of her latte, buying time. “The Ivanovs have enemies, Tash. Powerful ones.”

“They’re businessmen,” I say, but uncertainty creeps into my voice. “Everyone has competition.”

“It’s more than that.” Sofia won’t quite meet my eyes. “There are people who would do anything to hurt them. And now that you’re publicly linked to Dmitri...”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not my place.” She reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Just know that being with an Ivanov comes with risks. Real ones.”

Despite the warmth of the cafe, I’ve got goosebumps. I think of Dmitri’s security detail, the way his brothers always scan rooms before entering, and how he insists on driving me everywhere himself or sending his personal driver.

“Sofia, you’re scaring me.”

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