5. KAVI

5

KAVI

There's no way this is happening to me, but it is. I shut my eyes so I can make sense of what I've heard.

My fiancé is a total pig to rival players. Sure. Fine. Table that tidbit for later.

He has a vendetta against Lokhov. Tyler hated him in high school so that's not shocking.

He's using me in his trash talk. About my fat mouth on his dick?

I… What…?

My heart pretzels. "Call him again," I plead.

Dmitri's mouth presses into a line, as if I'm a huge nuisance. As if he shouldn't have let me in his hotel room. As if all this drama isn't his problem.

It's not, but I whisper a barely audible, "Please."

That only makes him scowl harder. He has no reason to listen to me, but looking even angrier, he does.

Tyler takes a few rings to pick up, and he's pissy. "Stop calling."

"Who is that, baby?"

I go rigid. That's a woman's voice with him. Calling him baby?

Lokhov has the same reaction. "That's not Kavi." He says the sentence like it disgusts him.

"You concussed, Lokhov? No shit."

Dmitri's dark eyes flick to me before going back to the phone. His jaw hardens. "Does she know you're sleeping around?"

"Of course she does. We're in an open relationship. Not that it's any of your business."

No, we are not in an open relationship!

There's a rapid heartbeat in my ears. I'm now aware of how wooly my tongue feels. My hands twitch. This must be shock or something.

Suddenly, Dmitri's focus is back on me, because I might also be hyper-ventilating. His attention is a hot prickle against my skin. With a lot of difficulty, I drag my eyes up to meet his.

They've become golden—and livid. It reminds me of his reaction on the ice tonight when he was punching Tyler. He's turned into a tall nightmare bracketed by the night sky. This suite is luxurious and swathed in mood lighting, so his tattoos bleed into the shadows. It's a dreadfully gorgeous sight.

I suck in a long breath, craving some of that—rage. His anger. It needs to roll up from where it's shoved down inside of me and pile upwards until I can taste it.

Tyler is laughing. Bragging. Is that the sound of a belt buckle being undone?

Rushing over to Dmitri, I yank his phone away from him and fill my face with the screen. My fiancé doesn't see me right away, because his eyes are half-lidded in boyish ecstasy as a woman's hand strokes down his chest.

"Tyler Archibald Smith!"

Blue eyes pop open to see me. Colors blur. He's dropped the phone.

All I hear is swearing, then the call cuts.

He phones back within seconds. When I pick up, Tyler's face scrunches. "Kavi? What the fuck are you doing with Lokhov?"

Hell no.

This is not being turned around on me!

"You cheating piece of shit, how dare you call my lips fat?"

I hang up and put the phone down somewhere behind me. I'm shaking, so it's not the most graceful movement.

Then, not looking at him, I run out of Dmitri's hotel suite before he can stop me. Not that he would, but this way I don't inconvenience him any longer while I fall apart.

Nothing like having a meltdown around a man who hates you being there in the first place.