Chapter 15

Yaroslav

I t’s been three days since the visit to Kim’s apartment. Since then, I’ve been busy with work, so we’ve barely spent any time together. The only times I have seen her, I’ve been unable to stop myself from making advances and so we spend the time together fucking. Not that I’m complaining, the sex is incredible, but I can tell Kim is feeling a little bored and restless, cooped up inside with no one to keep her company. I’ve seen her trying to befriend the staff, but most of them are so scared of me that they wouldn’t dare get close to a woman I’m dating. Not that Kim and I are dating, of course.

We’re almost halfway through the agreed two weeks and already I’m hoping I can convince her to stay longer. I tell myself that this is because we’ve spent so much time fucking I’ve barely spoken to her, which means I’m no closer to knowing for certain if she had any involvement with the attempt on my life. Which is why I decided to invite her to the party I must attend tonight. Thomas Gillihan invited me and all of the biggest players in the south will be there, if she knows anyone it should be easy to spot. And, if not, then at the very least, she will enjoy getting out of the house.

Just as I’m beginning to worry we’ll be late, Kim comes walking down the stairs. She’s a vision in a gold floor-length dress that hugs her curves so perfectly it looks like it’s been painted on. The entire dress is heavily embellished in beading with a tantalizing sheerness to it. She has on complementing gold-toned makeup and is sporting a new hairstyle. Her mane of curls has been tamed into long, thick braids with golden highlights that hang down to her waist.

She sees me standing gawping at her beauty and gives me a small smile. She stops in front of me, doing a little twirl that reveals that the dress plunges at the back as well as the front.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“You look incredible, I’m going to have to fight the other men off you,” I reply truthfully, trying to squash the urge to carry her back upstairs and ravage her, skipping the party entirely.

She giggles, evidently thinking I’m joking. I only hope I won’t need to break any hands tonight and that the men at the party have enough sense not to touch what’s mine. “You look pretty handsome yourself,” she replies, admiring my tuxedo.

“Shall we?” I ask, offering my arm for her to hold.

She nods, taking it and responding gratefully, “Thanks, you might need to prop me up all night, these heels might look pretty but they are not easy to walk in!”

“Oh don’t worry, I have no intention of letting you leave my side tonight,” I promise.

***

The party is in full swing when we arrive and for once, I’m not the star attraction for everyone. All eyes are on Kim. The men look like they want to devour her, and the women make no effort to hide their jealousy and curiosity over Yaroslav Volkov’s latest conquest. I’ve attended these events with a string of beautiful, vapid women on my arm, most of whom I can barely remember. Kim is different, she lights up the room and yet seems to be oblivious to the attention she’s getting.

“Why is everyone looking at you?” she whispers.

“It’s not me they’re looking at,” I reply truthfully, enjoying how her cheeks flush with embarrassment at that.

Kim seems overwhelmed and awed by the opulent setting, her eyes roaming around as she takes in the huge marble and gold ballroom, the impeccably dressed guests, and the obscene array of food on the buffet table. A waiter walks past with flutes of champagne, and I grab us a couple.

Kimberly takes hers from me gratefully, “Thanks. I think I need some Dutch courage,” she says, taking a swig.

“You’ll be fine. By the looks of it, everyone is already dying to meet you, so you’ll have plenty of people to meet,” I state.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” she replies dryly.

“Yaroslav, you made it!” I hear Gillihan call out, as he strides over to us.

“Thomas, good to see you,” I respond with a polite smile, shaking his hand.

“And who’s this?” Thomas asks, smiling at Kim.

“This is my date, Kimberly,” I reply, placing my hand on the small of her back possessively.

“A pleasure to meet you, Kimberly,” he says taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “Where did he find you then? I’m sure I’d remember someone as beautiful as you if we’d met before.”

Kim looks uncomfortable so I answer for her, “Kim is the woman who saved my life recently.”

That catches Gillihan off guard, his gaze flickers between us. “How wonderful, I can see why you weren’t too mad about getting into a fender bender with this one, Volkov. You can crash into me any time, lifesaving or not,” he leers.

“It was good to see you, Thomas. Thank you for throwing such a lovely party. I’m sure you have plenty of other guests you need to greet, we wouldn’t want to hog all of your time,” I say smoothly.

“Right you are, Volkov. No rest for the wicked I’m afraid. Kimberly, it was wonderful to meet you. I hope you will save me a dance for later,” he says with a wink.

Kim inclines her head politely, “It was lovely to meet you too.”

Gillihan leaves and I feel like I can breathe again. Even though I knew that Gillihan’s shameless flirting was just part of his public persona, and he was devoted to his wife, I still couldn’t stop the surge of rage I felt at him salivating over her. I’m not usually jealous, I’ve never felt much of anything for most of the women I’ve been with, beyond enjoying them sexually, but Kim makes me feel strangely protective and possessive. I knock back my champagne, trying not to let myself be rattled.

We move through the crowd, stopping to make polite small talk and introduce Kim, trying to keep our interactions brief and fend off any prying questions about Kim. I know she feels out of place as it is without people thinking she doesn’t belong here. One older gentleman becomes convinced she’s African royalty and won’t be told otherwise. Kim keeps it together until he’s gone before breaking into a grin and laughing.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Gran came over from Jamaica back in the sixties.”

I shake my head and smile, finding her laughter infectious. We chat away together, poking fun at the fat cats in the room taking themselves so seriously.

“Oh my god, Kimmy! Is that you?” I hear a screeching voice from behind us.

We turn to face the person, and it takes me a moment to place where I recognize her from. It’s Amelia, Kim’s friend from the hospital the other day.

“Amelia, hi!” Kim says, hugging her friend. “You remember Yaroslav,” she says, pointing to me.

“I do indeed, don’t you scrub up well,” she teases, batting her false eyelashes at me.

She’s wearing a nude pink dress that I recognize from the latest season’s runways, it may have been the talk of New York Fashion week, but it does nothing for her pale complexion, washing her out. The sheer dress plunges almost to her naval, leaving little to the imagination. She’s stick thin, aside from her obviously fake breasts. I wonder how much she eats, the woman looks like the kind to starve herself for the model look. Even with so much on show, she doesn’t hold a candle to her best friend and it’s clear that she knows it.

“Good to see you again,” I say politely.

She can clearly tell I’m going to be a brick wall to talk to, so with a pout, Amelia turns her attention back to her friend. “What are you doing here? I thought these events weren’t your thing, you never wanted to come to one before,” she says, sounding a little hurt.

“Yaroslav invited me… it’s not that I didn’t want to, just you know I could never afford to come to one of these events, the outfits alone…” she trails off helplessly.

“Mm yes, I should have known you didn’t pick this outfit… it’s not very you, is it… it’s a bit much,” she says, her tone kind but I hear the jealousy she’s hiding. “Not that it isn’t gorgeous, Yaroslav, very thoughtful of you. Just Kimmy’s more of a jeans and t-shirt kinda gal, revealing clothing isn’t really her thing,” she says to me.

“I think she looks breathtaking,” I reply, my eyes meeting Kim’s. I hope she doesn’t listen to a word her friend says, but I can see in her eyes that she’s hurt and feeling more insecure than before, not that she will let it show.

“So sweet!” she exclaims, as though I’m a puppy who did something adorable. “You lucky thing Kimmy, I need to find one of these for myself!”

Kim smiles politely as her friend launches into a story. I tune out as she gossips, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. My eyes land on someone I never expected to see, my sister, Marta. She spots me and smiles hopefully, making her way toward me.

“Excuse me, ladies, I’ll be right back,” I murmur to them, kissing Kim softly on the cheek before striding away.

The last person I want to speak to tonight is Marta.