Chapter 32

Mishka

My cheeks hurt from smiling.

It was the best day of my life, bar none. That might sound superficial, or greedy, considering the insane quantity of cash he had spent while creating the perfect day. It was greedy, I thought with a sudden wash of guilt.

I should be praying for my father, and reserving the best day ever award for the day his doctors told him that he was cured.

But it didn't matter. It was still the best day of my life, so far. And it was all because of Anton Aslanov.

It boggled the mind. This was the man I had once feared and hated. The man whose hand I was holding as beautiful, magical music filled the auditorium. He had shown me so much joy in just a few days. My head was spinning from everything I had tasted, touched, seen, and heard.

But that was nothing compared to what was happening in my heart.

Do not think about it, Mishka. Do not break the spell. Not yet. You can deal with reality in the morning.

The audience erupted in applause. It was time for the intermission. I excused myself to use the restroom. I barely noticed the security detail trailing me.

Strange how quickly the unusual becomes normal…

I used the restroom quickly, giving my lips a quick swipe of lip stain and fluffing my hair a bit. Vanity was foreign to me, but this was different. For the first time, I was enjoying being pretty. Anton made me feel beautiful. It wasn't just the clothes. I felt comfortable in my own skin.

I wasn't critical of myself. I just felt good. It was surprising and unexpected, like everything else about my life lately.

Was this what it felt like to be a woman? TO embrace my womanhood? I had never felt so feminine. It was an unexpectedly soft feeling. It was, for lack of a better word, really, really nice.

When I got back to the box, Anton's tension was palpable. Even his security detail looked upset. I lifted my hand but stopped short of reaching for him, as much as I wanted to.

"What is it? What is wrong?"

"I made a major miscalculation."

I waited, standing extremely still, just a few feet away. I was unsure of his mood. He seemed furious. But not with me. With himself.

"I am sorry, Mishka. We will have female security waiting for us in California. Until then we will find a private rest room for you to use."

My jaw dropped.

"That… not necessary," I said, trailing off at the look on his face.

"It is. I will not risk you," he almost snarled. Then he caught himself, and I saw his shoulders drop. "Forgive me. For my tone, and my lack of foresight."

"Of course," I said, giving him a searching look. He had controlled his emotions in a way that surprised me. I was glad he was calm. But the dramatic changes in his mood was shocking.

He could… cut off his emotions in a single move.

He offered me his arm.

"Come. Let me ply you with liquor, little Mishka."

I put my hand on his arm and allowed him to lead me to the bar.