Page 10 of The Russian's Forced Bride
I nodded, rubbing my temples. I wasn’t in any mood to go through documents now, so I simply slipped the papers back into the envelope and tossed it on the table.
“Anything else?”
“You remember Skylar Brent? That daughter of Brent Cosmetics?”
My brows furrowed at Maxim’s question; lines of frustration marked my forehead as I tried to recall who he was talking about. But of course, no matter how hard I thought, all I could see were wisps of ginger hair clouding my mind.
Tch!That woman was really turning into a thorn in my side.
Maxim seemed to notice my struggle as he chuckled lightly.
“She’s the woman you slept with right before you left for Chicago. You know, blonde, blue eyes, dumb as fuck.”
I still had no clue who Maxim was talking about, but the sooner I played along, the quicker he would stop talking about whoever the hell she was.
“What does she want, Maxim?”
“She keeps trying to reach you, Boss,” Maxim revealed with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t have bothered telling you, but you seemed pretty interested in her father’s business, so I thought—”
“I don’t know who the hell that is, Maxim,” I calmly said, tapping my fingers against the coffee table. “So tell her to fuck off the next time she calls, okay?”
Maxim scoffed in response, completely indifferent to my verdict, while I gulped the glass of rosé in one shot, wiping the remains off my lips afterward.
“He’s been quite forgetful these days, Maxim. Something tells me he had quite an unforgettable experience back in Chicago. It’s been occupying his mind.” Cassandra’s teasing voice came from behind me.
I glanced at her figure, dressed in a stylish white suit skirt topped with a white blazer, from my side view with a quiet smile. She knew, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of admitting she had unraveled me in seconds.
So I said the only thing I could think of in reply to her, pouring more wine into my cup.
“Bullshit.”
Maxim shook his head with a baritone laugh as he grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass from the home bar before settling into one of the golden-brown barstools, while Cassandra continued to point out the anomalies of my recent behavior.
“You’ve got to admit that I’m right, sir,” Cassandra stated, as she circled the couch I was sitting on, standing just a foot from my view with her iPad in her hands like it was gold. “It’s been what?” She brought out two fingers. “A week, and not onlyhave you been randomly forgetting things, but you haven’t even brought a woman in here.”
She shook her head and slightly adjusted her glasses, which nearly fell off the bridge of her nose, while Maxim suddenly started choking on his drink.
I leaned back against the couch, a small smirk on my lips as I prepared to dispel Cassandra’s suspicions—until my phone started buzzing loudly beside me, almost like a premonition that something was about to go down.
Silence filled the room, squeezing the air out as I pulled my phone from the breast pocket of my suit jacket.
It was Matvey.
My expression immediately darkened. He couldn’t just let me be, could he?
I answered the phone while I stared directly at Cassandra, whose features began to contort with worry.
“I need you in Chicago now, Rafael,” Matvey ordered—no salutations, no pleasantries, nothing.
I took a sharp breath. Matvey’s voice was cold and firm, making it clear there was no room for complaints, and as usual, I knew better than to oppose him.
“Alright,” I replied after moments of silence. “I’ll be there.”
And then the line went dead.
I chugged down another glass of wine, muttering a curse under my breath. This had better be fucking worth it, because I was so close to lighting a fire under Matvey’s ass one of these days.
Being back in Chicago wasn’t something I had planned, but Matvey really knew how to push my buttons. Still, I chose not to dwell on it too much.
