Page 31 of Imperfect Desires

Her mouth curves faintly. “It’s my brother’s wedding, and I should at least make an exception.”

I watch her carefully.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say.

“And why is that?” She asks with suppressed anger. "Do you still think I'm too young? I am fucking twenty-five now.”

Ah, yes. I am all too aware that she is now a woman.

“I mean, you shouldn’t be here with me.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Her gaze deepens. “Do I?”

I slowly step toward her, and she takes in a deep breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I say quietly.

“Am I?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She tilts her head. Her hand slides along my arm, her nails brushing the inside of my wrist.

“I think I do.”

My jaw tightens, and my pulse hammers in my ears. I take her hand and gently push it away.

“You need to stop,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t—” I cut myself off.

Alina’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

I don’t answer. I just turn and walk away.

But my hands are shaking.

11

Alina

It’s been a week since Viktor’s wedding, and the house has never felt this quiet.

Viktor and Scarlett are still on their honeymoon, and Yelena left early this morning with Anton to visit the hotel construction site. The contractors had sent in a bloated spending report again, and she didn’t trust them not to pull another fast one. Normally, Viktor or I would be involved, but I can’t stand dealing with the builders. They throw around numbers like confetti, hoping to bury their theft in the paperwork.

Yelena volunteered to go. She’s better at making them squirm.

My office in the east wing is quiet except for the steady tapping of keys beneath my fingers. A half-eaten croissant sits beside my coffee, long gone cold. The numbers on the screen blur together, rows of transactions and wire approvals forming one long spreadsheet of monotony.

It should be enough to distract me. It normally is, but since my conversation with Lev last week, I have found my thoughts drifting towards him more than usual.

And all I can think about is that night. The way Lev looked at me on Viktor’s balcony. The sound of his voice when he said,“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

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