Page 34 of Gloves Off

“Iknowwhen the team dinner is.” My smile is razor-sharp. “I can tell time, Volkov.” He’s getting the best of me again. “Don’t you worry your bruised skull. I’ll be home with plenty of time to slip on a pair of those heels you love so much.” My expression is innocent. Maybe even a little sweet. I am the devil reincarnate. “Maybe I’ll even find someone tonight who likes them.”

His dark eyes flare but I’m out the door before he can respond.

An hour later, after blasting one of Jordan’s angry lady rock playlists, I return to Volkov’s home. Notmyhome. This place will never be my home. Not with him living there.

The front door’s unlocked, to my surprise. I wouldn’t put it past him to lock the house up tight so I’m forced to ring the doorbell and beg to be let in.

No sign of my horrible husband, thank god. Outside my room, though, my gaze snags on something.

The packing tape is torn off the boxes. They’ve been opened. My heart jumps into my throat as I flip the cardboard box open.

Empty. Alarm bells ring in my head.

I yank my bedroom door open and head to my new walk-in closet, praying for Volkov’s sake that he had a complete personality transformation, felt remorse for our argument, and neatly unpacked my beautiful shoes in the closet like a good husband would.

The closet is empty, though, and my new husband is still a fucking asshole. My lungs feel tight, my heart beats harder, and my stomach clenches into a hard knot. If I were an egotistical jerk, where would I hide my shoes?

A thought occurs to me, and my lips part with shock and horror.

He wouldn’t.

He would,that voice in my head says.He hates you and he totally would.

I fly through the house, out the door, and around the side where the compost, recycling, and garbage bins sit. When I flip the garbage lid open, my vision blurs with white-hot rage.

CHAPTER 15

ALEXEI

The entire streetprobably hears the doctor’s shriek. My fingers still while I work on my tie, a rush of adrenaline hitting my bloodstream.

Over my dead body will she be fucking other guys this year.

Why didn’t I think to ask if she had a boyfriend before we made the deal? Of course she does. I’ve never seen eyes like hers. The doctor is a rare kind of beautiful. If you’re into women like her, that is.

Which I’m not.

I’m not jealous. I don’t care if she has a boyfriend. I’m only mad because it’ll jeopardize my and my parents’ citizenship. That’s all.

The front door bangs closed, and my pulse trips. I can hear her opening and closing doors downstairs, looking for me. Anticipation sways and peaks inside me. I haven’t felt this wired since my first season in professional hockey. Her footsteps move up the stairs, slow and steady like a predator.

I take a seat in the lounge chair by the window, spreading out and folding my arms over my chest, wearing a smug look that’ll make her blood boil.

My bedroom door bursts open, fire in her eyes, color on her cheekbones, and hair rumpled. Her chest rises and falls fast as she glares daggers at me, holding up the clear trash bag.

“What,” she growls, and my groin tightens, “is this?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. Trash?”

“Not trash.”Her eyes turn wild, and she slowly walks toward me. Anticipation rises in my gut. “You threw out my shoes.”

“Svetta must have thrown them out when she was cleaning. Were they on the floor?”

“No, they were noton the floor.”

She stares at me with hate in her eyes. Good. Let her hate me. It fuels me, makes my heart race, makes me feel alive.

“So this is how it’s going to be,” she says.

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