Page 41 of Konstantin

I don’twanta chance.

Liar.

The diamonds on her wrist sparkle when they catch the light, her attention zeroed in on him. But he doesn’t notice her. Not at first.

Not until he glances at me and catches the flicker in my gaze.

My throat tightens as his eyes remain on hers, and I start playing images of them together and I hate every damn second of it. I don’t care who he’s slept with or flirted with or whispered dirty things to in Russian.

I don’t.

But when her eyes drop to his mouth for a beat too long, it feels like a knife twisting in my stomach, and I stab my fork into the next bite like it insulted me.

“Konstantin,” she purrs, like he’s her pet. “I thought that was you.”

He sets his wineglass down with deliberate calm. “Nadia.”

His jaw tenses, while I start to wonder who she is and how many times he’s fucked her and where.

She doesn’t spare me a glance, eyes devouring him instead. “It’s been too long. We should catch up.”

“I’m in the middle of a date,” he says flatly.

That catches me off guard, my heart drumming faster.

“A…date?” She blinks, like the words don’t compute.

He gestures toward me with an outstretched palm, giving her a look that could melt steel. “Yes. Meet my girlfriend, Tessa.”

Girlfriend…

The word punches through me, and this sudden desire to be just that comes out of nowhere.

Her gaze cuts toward me, expression filled with thinly veiled disgust. “Oh.”

“Hi there.” I arch a single brow.

Nadia stiffens, her mouth snaking into what could be described as a smile…by some…before she flicks her attention to Konstantin.

“I see. Well…I won’t keep you.” She flings her hair over her shoulder.

“You already have.” His words cut, and she stiffens, tension creeping through her.

She hikes up her chin. “I’ll see you around.”

“Doubtful,” he replies without a shred of emotion. It almost feels like a threat.

She’s visibly seething as she turns her back to us and starts away.

When she’s gone, I set my fork down. “Was that your ex?”

His mouth thins. “Far from it.”

It’s none of your business.

“Well, either way, I really think you need to stop calling me your girlfriend. People will start to believe it.”

His expression darkens as he leans in. “It’s inevitable, Ms. Monroe. I’m just getting you used to the idea.”