M I K H A I L“What?” Yana splutters as the stylists approach him. She backs away as though she’s being arrested, putting her hands up in surrender. “What’s happening?”“Miss Allard, relax.” I let out a little laugh. “Let them take care of you, okay?”“But what are they going to do to me?”“Make you beautiful.”Yana’s mouth goes wide. “So you mean I’m not?”Oops. I turn to the stylists. “Take her away.”“HEY!” she yells, but they manage to coax her into coming with them, taking her to the private conference room I have at the back of my office.I take a peek before I close the door, and I’m pleased to see that they stylists bought all the clothes, accessories, and makeup that I told them to choose. Yana still looks like a fish out of water, but I’m certain she will adjust in no time.I go back to my desk and start to flick through some documents containing our financial statements. I review the summary and see that there’s a mistake, so I decide to take a crack at checking them cover
Y A N ANo way. No freaking way Mikhail did this and said that.I want it to be a dream. I’m so humiliated that I can’t feel my own body. I’m like a floating entity just standing there, my hand clasped in his as he continues to look at Deborah in challenge.“Anything more?” he prompts. “Or are we allowed to leave now?”Deborah looks like she just got punched in the face. Her husband is staring at her, and when their gazes meet, she suddenly turns to me and mutters, “I apologize, Yana.”“That’s what I like to hear,” Mikhail says in a lofty tone, signing another cheque and tossing it to her. “This is for another six months.”With that, he pushes past her, his hand still wrapped securely around mine as he pulls me along with him. I trot behind him, struggling to keep up not because of my sky-high heels but because my knees are weak from what just happened. His chauffeur opens the door for us, and only when we get inside do I manage to breathe out.“Back to the office, please,” he orders,
M I K H A I L“No answer,” Evan says as he looks up from his phone. “Yana has ignored all ten of our calls, boss. What do we do?”I open my mouth to say that we should call her again, but no sound comes out. The truth is, I don’t know what to do, and calling her this many times with no response is starting to feel wrong to me.Especially considering what happened the night before yesterday.“You did humiliate me more.”Those words continue to run through my mind like a bad mantra. Every time I try to focus on something, I hear Yana’s voice saying that. Granted, it shouldn’t be a big deal since she has every right to feel that way, but I just can’t shake off the feeling that she genuinely believes I shouldn’t have defended her.And she’s right, I didn’t have to. I just did it because I wanted to.I’m starting to think that the only reason why I’m this bothered is because I still don’t know why I wanted to.It’s not because of the contract. It’s not because of our arrangement. I just si
Y A N A“And now you remember me.”I wince when I hear the sarcasm in Mikhail’s voice. I feel pretty bad for calling him on a Saturday night, but Evan dropped by and told me that we should be meeting his parents tonight. I don’t remember if he told me or if I just forgot, but either way, I feel like shit.I have to admit: Olivia’s warning made me doubt everything. And it didn’t help that she brought a fresh batch of clients to my store either. At first, I thought that I would be able to be alright with everything, but guilt started to get to me the moment I didn’t answer the first call.I was already actually considering calling him, but Evan pushed me to do it, and I’m glad that he did.But now, I’m starting to regret calling him immediately. I get that it’s only ten in the evening, but he sounds like I bothered him.“I’m sorry,” I mumble, closing my eyes as I feel my cheeks heating up in shame. “I’ve been really busy for the past two days and I--”“Don’t lie, Yana.” Mikhail is breat
Y A N AI stagger away from him, squealing as I land back on my seat. I watch in horror as Mikhail gags again, retching onto the table.Did he . . . feel so grossed out about kissing me that he wants to throw up now?Did my breath stink that bad?I blow a strong gust of wind into my closed hand, trying to catch a weird smell, but I can only smell the mimosa. In my very valid opinion, my breath and my mouth are not puke-worthy.And yet here is Mikhail, clutching his stomach and quietly heaving. The women who were checking him out earlier are now watching him with worry, and I just sit there with mixed feelings, thinking about helping him but smacking him upside the head at the same time.“I’m sorry,” he mumbles and goes back to retching immediately. “I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t mean to keep doing it. It’s not your fault or anything, it’s just. . . .”He trails off when his gagging gets worse.The sound is digging into my ears. My chest is tight with a mixture of embarrassment and
M I K H A I L“That can’t be,” I whisper, but my voice sounds so quiet and so muted that I can hardly hear myself too. “This can’t . . . there has to be a way.”My Lycan, Kingsley, growls in my head, and I can hear it ringing in my ears even though we share a body. In return, I howl in my Lycan form, the sound bouncing so intensely off the walls that even Evan has to clamp his hands over his ears.Now that I’m fully conscious while Kingsley is up and running around, my panic is making its way through the surface more. I can tell that he’s not comfortable with the changes and this causes our Lycan form to slam itself against the walls, which explains the scratches.However, the pain from the collision doesn’t feel normal. Usually slamming into the padded walls would not cause any kind of pain, but this time it feels like someone is hammering at my bones in the hopes of breaking them.And this goes on for hours until I shift back to my human form again, this time weaker than ever.I col
Y A N A I don't want to turn around and see what's waiting behind me, but I force myself to do it when suddenly, Mikhail grabs my arm and pulls me gently to his side. And just like that, I find myself facing his parents. To make things a little worse, another man appears behind his parents and smiles happily at all of us. “And don’t forget your uncle!” he announces. Evan groans. “Dad, why are you here?” “Well, because I heard Mikhail is sick!” the older man says, stepping forward until they’re all lined up in front of me. Now I see where the good genes are coming from, because holy shit. His mother looks like she could be in her early fifties even though I know she's probably older than that. She shares the same eyes as Mikhail, right down to the shape and the last eyelash. However, her hair is blonde, now mixed with a tinge of silver. His father is definitely the one who gave him that certain air of confidence and intimidation. The man is tall with a terrifyingly perfect post
Y A N A Oh, my god. Does Sofia know about me? Has our cover been blown? What gave it away? Is it the fact that she can spot poverty from a mile away? Panic is rising in my throat like bile, but I swallow it all back when I feel Mikhail’s hand on my shoulder. It’s his way of telling me to calm down, or at least not to blow it. Either way is fine, because it did a good job of reminding me that my future rests on this, the biggest interview of my life. “First of all, we had to keep it a secret because I asked him to.” I glance at Mikhail and twist my hands. “I just felt like it was too good to be true. I didn’t really want people saying I’m unworthy or anything, and I realize now that that’s wrong of me.” To my utter relief, Sofia’s expression softens. She actually reaches over to pat my hand. “I understand, my darling. I just wish we knew about you more. We were so happy when he told us.” Thank god. I thought she was going to scalp me. “Well, that can be arranged,” I say lightly,