Page 51 of Beautiful Trauma

“Hello, I’m Mila Korolova.”

He nodded. “I’ve been instructed to take you to the study.”

“Thank you.”

Although I’d grown up surrounded by wealth, I couldn’t help admiring the opulence of the foyer. My heels clicked down the marble floors as I followed the butler. He opened the first door on the left. “Please make yourself comfortable. He’ll be right with you.”

“I appreciate it.”

As my eyes scanned the room, I set my bag and purse down on one of the leather couches. Even though it wasn’t part of the collection, I couldn’t help admiring the oil painting over the marble fireplace.

I whirled around at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. When the door opened, I stared in confusion as a familiar face came striding towards me. My mind spun trying to figure out where I knew him from.

And then it hit me.

Father had shoved his phone in my face on the way home from the meeting to brag about Annika’s new fiance. On the screen was the man before me–Brian Byrne. “What are you doing here?”

A cruel smirk curved on his lips. “Welcome to my home, Ms. Korolova.”

I gasped. “Yourhome?”

“Yes, this is the Byrne family estate.”

As my mind spun in confusion, I slowly shook my head. “But the address was registered to Vance Doyle.”

With an apathetic shrug, he replied, “For security purposes, we don’t keep it in our name. I’m surprised Bratva doesn’t do the same.”

Although unease prickled up my spine, I fought to keep my face impassive. “Why all the subterfuge to bring me here? Since we have an alliance, I would have come if you asked.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. There is no alliance.”

A nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “Considering I was at the meeting, I’m pretty sure there is one.”

Brian walked over to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

“I’d like you to explain your meaning.”

He flashed me a shark-like smile. “You’re not one to beat around the bush, are you?”

“No. I’m not.”

As Brian poured an amber liquid into a crystal glass, he said, “I’m sorry I only have whiskey to offer you. I know how much you Russians prefer your vodka.”

When I merely stared at him, he chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’ll cut to the point.”

“I would appreciate that.”

He threw back the contents of the glass. “Do you think honesty is important in a relationship, Ms. Korolova?”

I furrowed my brows at him. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s say in business. Should one always be honest when entering into a contract?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

He nodded. “So do I.”

“If you’re alluding to the fact the contract between you and Annika is dishonest, you’re wrong.”