Chapter 31

"How long do you think it will be before that guy comes over here?" Krista nudges me with her elbow and tilts her head toward the table two spots over.

Three men stand around a high-top with a bucket of beers in the middle.

"Which one exactly?" I ask, taking note that all three have military-styled high and tight haircuts and the physique to go with it.

"The tallest one. With the blue eyes." She picks up her margarita and sips.

"You can't see his eye color from here." It's dim in this back corner. Zack put us back here to hide us, I'm sure of it. Krista doesn't seem to mind though. She's getting a good view of all the men in the area.

"Oh, I can tell." She laughs. "You wanna dance?" She's already scooting out of the booth.

"Not really." But I follow her anyway. We didn't come out just to sit and wallow. We could have done that at home with more comfortable shoes on.

As soon as we step onto the dance floor we're surrounded by other dancers. Kraze is one of the top clubs in the city, and Saturday nights are probably the busiest.

"Try to have fun. Forget about everything else. Just have fun," Krista yells over the music.

I nod in agreement.

I could definitely use some fun.

By the sixth song, my throat is dry, and my feet are killing me. These shoes were not meant for the dance floor.

"I need a drink, and to pee!" I yell in her ear.

"Drinks!" she cheers and grabs my hand, navigating me through the crush of the dance floor to the VIP bar. "I'll get them, you go pee and meet me at the table. I need to cool off a bit." She fans herself.

Thankfully, the VIP section has its own restroom set up, so there isn't a long line when I get there.

Once I'm finished, I wash my hands and wipe down my face with a wet paper towel. Between the bodies, the lights, and dancing, there's a thin layer of sweat covering my face and chest.

When I take a step back from the sink, I step on a foot.

"Oh! Shit. I'm sorry." I spin around to finish apologizing and run straight into a woman's shoulder.

"Wow." She catches me before I stumble back and laughs. "I have you."

"I'm so sorry," I say again, looking up and finding Victoria staring down at me.

My stomach does a nosedive.

She's here.

"Victoria." Her name scratches my throat.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you—oh! Cora!" She laughs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't recognize you."

I swallow and take a small step back.

"I didn't realize you were here." Victoria flushes, touching her cheeks. "I assumed you'd be at home."

"Why would you assume that?" I cock my head to the side.

"Well, this is Sergei's club and you're his wife. So, naturally, I assumed he wouldn't want his wife to be here, dancing with other men." Her eyes graze along my body. "In such a revealing dress."

I put a hand to my chest where the neckline dips between my breasts.

"Sergei picked out this dress," I say.

She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Hmm, his tastes have definitely changed." She looks past me into the mirror and pats her hair. Not a strand is out of place. Nothing about her is out of sorts.

"I'm not sure what that means," I admit. I wish Krista was in here. She's better at these sorts of confrontations. I feel like I've gone to battle with an unloaded gun.

"Nothing. Just that he's always enjoyed more… sophistication." She glances at me in the mirror. "But maybe he thought you'd be more comfortable in something like that. Since you're from a different sort of life than him."

I tug on the hem of the dress.

"I don't think you know Sergei as well as you think you do," I say.

"I don't know." She lifts a shoulder. "We've been getting along wonderfully this past week." She turns and leans her ass on the ledge of the sink. "It's been like no time has gone by."

My heart sinks as a deep pang hits me.

"You said you had some financial issue with him. I assume it's been addressed?"

She smiles. "Oh, yes. It's in the works."

"In the works?" I curl my toes inside my shoes. She doesn't deserve to see my discomfort.

"Yes. He explained that the marriage with you is only for a few more months. But we've been talking with a lawyer who thinks that things can be arranged."

"Arranged? What can be arranged?"

She sighs. "Well, I'm sure you'll be thrilled really. You'll be done with him soon."

"What the hell does that mean?" My voice raises and the woman washing her hands at the other sink looks over at us.

"It means we've found a way for him to divorce you and marry me and still be able to keep his inheritance. It's all about timing, you see." She rests her hand on my shoulder. "It's for the best really, Cora. His world is too much for an innocent like you."

I step away from her, letting her hand fall away.

"An innocent like me?" My fingers curl in, my nails dig into my palm.

"Yes." She nods, totally missing how irritated I'm getting. "I'll let him fill you in on the details. But it's for the best. I'm sure you'll agree. You just aren't his type." She makes a pointed look at me, dragging her gaze over my body. "If you know what I mean." She runs her hand over her hips. She has the perfect curves without any of the added softness that I do.

"I need to get back. He's probably wondering where I disappeared to. The restrooms upstairs were closed for cleaning." She pats my cheek and breezes past me.

Spinning on my heel, I hurry to the door.

If he thinks I'm going to just sit by while he carries on with that, that, that woman, he's going to be very surprised.

After throwing open the door, I rush out into the hallway and see her at the end of it.

Talking to Sergei.

He's frowning, shaking his head while she speaks to him.

Nausea rolls through me.

I know he can't love me.

But dammit.

Somewhere I fell in love with him.

And seeing this, them, my heart aches like it's going to implode.

Sergei looks up, catches my gaze and stands taller.

"Coraline," he calls to me.

I shake my head. I can't.

I don't want to hear what he has to say.

But he's in front of me in seconds, grabbing my shoulders.

"No, Sergei. No." I yank away. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to see you. I want to go home." I try to step around him, but he blocks me.

"What did she tell you?" he demands.

"Everything you didn't have the balls to last night," I shoot up at him. "You could have just told me you wanted to marry her. You don't owe me anything." I choke up, my throat closes around a sob I'm desperate to keep inside.

"Want to marry her?" He sounds sick by the words.

"Yes. It's fine. If you really want to." Bile rises up in my throat. "We can get?—"

"Do not finish that sentence," he growls, getting closer, making it harder to breathe.

To think.

"Petrovs do not divorce." His jaw sets and he lowers his face to mine. "Ever."

I want to believe him.

I want desperately to cling to the moments we shared before the benefit. To pretend that our fake marriage is anything but.

"So, our marriage only lasting a year, that was another lie you told me?"

The little wrinkles around his eyes soften. "It's what I intended at first. But that's changed." He touches my cheek. "I won't let you go. And I sure as fuck do not want that woman."

Glancing behind him, I get a glimpse of Victoria being escorted along the edge of the dance floor. Dimitri has her by the arm and is yanking her behind him.

He wouldn't dare do such a thing to me. Sergei would have his head.

"What have you been doing this whole week then?" I question him. "You haven't been home and when you have been, you've hidden from me."

"Cora—"

"Cora! Cora!" Krista's yells cut him off as she charges at me out of breath. "Cora. You left your purse." She hands me the small clutch I had left her with when I went to the bathroom. "Your phone was going off."

"What's the matter?" Sergei moves to stand behind me, his heat spreading across my back.

She ignores him and grabs my hand. "We need to get you home."

"Krista." I pull back on her. "What's wrong?"

She frowns. Tears well in her eyes. "It's your mother."