Page 36 of Silent Ties

“It must make you really wonder about her,” Ren calls when I’m near the hostess stand. Elijah turns back at the same time. He might be a bastard most days, but he’s always had my back. “What kind of monsters she’s faced before if she doesn’t fear being married to you.”

I pick lint off my jacket, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Nobody forced you to spread your legs open for Roma.”

The door slams behind me.

“Taunting her about Roma won’t do you any favors.” Elijah rubs his hands together as we walk toward two idling SUVs at the curb. It’s still the middle of winter, spring nowhere in sight. It’s only early evening, but dark enough to trick my body into thinking it’s later.

“You started it.” It’s not a childish response, it’s factual. “You brought up Roma in the first place.”

I nod to my driver. “Notify Dad about what happened, will you.”

“Including the part where you’re asking Ren for help.”Elijah never has a sense of disbelief but there’s caution in his tone. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.”

“No, I have class.”

“At night?”

“Yes, those are in fact a thing.” It’s annoying, but one of my professors only teaches at night and I need to take his class.

“Right now?” Elijah asks.

“Yes,” I say, not interested in Elijah’s exasperating ways.

“Interesting,” he replies as I open my car door. “Welp. I’m off then, too.”

He turns on his heel, wandering into the night, ignoring the SUV that brought him this way. He prowls like a cat, mischievous and arrogant, and now I wish I didn’t have class because there’s no telling what chaos he’s about to get into.

CHAPTER 11

Russet

The cupcakes are a disaster, but I’m not worried. I shall prevail in my culinary endeavors and in the meanwhile, I’ve gotten my revenge on Olga.

The moment I stepped into the kitchen she hovered.

“I do that.”

“Nope.” I turned on the oven. “I’m baking.”

“I bake.”

“And I do, too. I’ve taken up a new hobby.”

She lingered for the first hour, rolling her eyes and speaking in Russian under her breath. I downloaded an app, deciding I’d also learn a new language with all the new free time I have.

I’m a little ashamed to say my shoulders are sore from baking, proving Yelena’s point that I need to exercise more. Or maybe it’s my lack of moving around in general. I’m cooped up. Maxim told me there’s no point in my going to work unless I wanted to work for his father. He came across as an asshole when he said it and I not so respectfully declined which ended up exactly like it always does. Me on my knees, his fingers tugging at my scalp ashe mouth fucked me.

A glob of icing lands on a vanilla cupcake, I squeeze my hand against the pastry bag so hard at the memory.

Marissa would get pleasure in knowing I’m nothing but Max’s fuck toy.

I’ve tuned out Olga so thoroughly that it’s not until she sighs for the fifth time before I realize she’s on her phone. She says something in Russian while rolling her eyes, clearly disgruntled, and hangs up. With a scathing look at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, she announces, “I leave now.”

“Oh, okay.”Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.

I don’t bother to look up from my piping as she leaves but I’m secretly delighted. She never leaves until Max is home. The penthouse is gloriously empty for once.

At least until I hear the chime of the elevator opening again.

---