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"The french toast here is so buena," Mireya hummed as she chewed on the bite of french toast she had previously taken, "I can never find a place that makes it like this."

Sevan nodded as she chewed, "There's a good place in the States too," she said as she cut into her french toast.

But I couldn't miss the way she subtly eyed me.

Mostly because I am not eating.

I don't want to share a meal with this Mireya.

She makes appetite go away.

"Zinovia," Sevan murmured, leaning in slightly to me as she kept her voice lowered.

I only glanced over to meet her dark eyes, refusing to say one word.

As I had done since I laid eyes on Mireya.

Sevan tilted her head slightly as she analyzed my face, clearly noticing my stoic expression.

"Miri, I need a favor," Sevan suddenly said, her dark eyes never once wavering from mine, which naturally made me want to raise a curious brow.

But I refrained, continuing to stay stoic.

"As you always do," Mireya said with a growing smile, "It's why we're here."

Sevan nodded, her dark eyes still locked with mine, "You're the fixer," she said, which naturally intrigued me.

The fixer?

"I have an issue in Moscow," Sevan spoke again.

And this time I couldn't stop myself from furrowing my brows.

That satisfied Sevan.

"Moscow... vale," Mireya murmured, still focused on eating her food.

Sevan hummed, finally glancing away from me, "Someone doesn't want to stay in her territory," she specified, immediately earning a nod from Mireya.

Meanwhile, I felt fucking confused.

I thought I handled the Nerissa problem.

"Give me a name and I'll fix it," Mireya didn't hesitate to offer.

"Nerissa Chernov—specify that it's a message from me while you're at it," Sevan said, now grabbing her fork again to finish eating her food.

"I handled her," I finally spoke before Mireya could.

Which immediately earned both of their attention.

The less you speak the more value words hold.

A lesson my father taught me—and something I'll never forget.

"Did you?" Sevan asked, suddenly meeting my light eyes, "Because she's back in your territory now that you've been gone for a day."

I raised a sharp brow, feeling my jaw naturally clench.

But I had nothing to say.

No words to contribute.

Something that visibly satisfied Sevan yet again.

"Fix it for me Miri," Sevan said, glancing back over to Mireya who was now sipping on her mimosa.

"Give me a level and I'll fly out tonight," Mireya said as she sat her glass down.

I narrowed my eyes as soon as Sevan glanced back to me, "How bad do you want it to be Zi?" she asked me.

"The worst," I mumbled, leaving no room for empathy when it came to Nerissa.

"Level ten," Sevan told Mireya, glancing back over to her.

Mireya immediately nodded, taking another sip of her mimosa, "I'll fix it," was all she said as she set her glass down to finish her food, "Let's do a yacht day today—the weather is nice."

I felt my jaw naturally tighten at the idea of spending more time with Mireya.

Maybe a small part of me did want Sevan's company to myself.

"I need you on the next flight out," Sevan quickly shut her suggested plans down, "We'll do a yacht day in your honor."

Mireya jokingly rolled her eyes, "More like to rub it in my fucking face," she said with a growing smile.

Sevan only laughed, naturally furthering my irritation, "We'll plan something when you're back," she said, somehow adding to my already skyrocketed irritation.

"I'm ready to leave," I said, firmly standing up from my seat, which immediately earned both of their eyes on me.

Sevan analyzed my face for a moment—a very long moment actually.

Until finally, she nodded once.

"Let's go," Sevan said, standing from her chair.

"I'll keep you updated, Vani," Mireya said as she stood from her chair.

But only to pull Sevan into a brief hug.

Which forced me to reluctantly glance away, trying my fucking hardest to not cause a scene.

But my hands are twitching.

"It was nice meeting you Koslov," Mireya said as they pulled back from their hug—clearly about to initiate one with me.

But before I could possibly take a few large steps back from her—Sevan stepped in front of me.

"She's not a hugger," Sevan quickly told Mireya, which made defenses lower slightly.

"Oh sí, of course," Mireya said, nodding a few times with an understanding smile as she sat back down at the table, "Have a good yacht day without me," she purposely added in sarcasm.

Sevan rolled her eyes as she pressed a firm hand to my upper back, "Have fun in cold as hell Moscow," she purposely added.

And while it might've been offensive to Mireya, I wanted nothing but to be wrapped in that familiar cold.

I miss the snow—how the wind nips at every inch of exposed skin.

"Fuck you," was all Mireya said as Sevan guided us away from the table.

And I swear I couldn't be fucking happier to leave that restaurant, following Sevan out to the familiar SUV.

Which she helped me into before rounding the car to slide into the driver's seat.

It was quiet between us for a few moments, especially as I stared out of the tinted window and actively ignored Sevan's presence.

Mostly because I was past irritated.

But I refused to speak on it.

Or even say anything.

I had to practically fight my own thoughts for over fifteen minutes.

"I do not like nicknames."

The words fell from my lips before I could possibly think it through—refusing to look away from the window.

Even as I felt her familiar touch run up my arm, briefly squeezing my shoulder before wrapping her hand around the back of my neck.

"I won't call you Zi then," Sevan didn't hesitate to say, which naturally made my eyes snap away from the countryside whipping past us.

But her dark eyes were too occupied on the road to meet mine.

"I do not like her nickname for you," I clarified, my tone growing even more tighter.

And finally, she briefly glanced over to meet my stare—until she glanced back to the road.

"Okay," Sevan had the nerve to say.

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Wrong answer," I said, reaching behind me to her hand on my neck.

Which I immediately removed myself.

And Sevan let me, reaching for one of my thighs instead.

"She's like a sister to me, Zinovia," Sevan said, gently squeezing my upper thigh, "Just chill."

Chill?

"I leave tonight then," I determined, feeling my irritation slowly burn into anger, "I chill away from you."

Sevan immediately sighed, "The nickname is dropped," she said, briefly glancing over to me, but I had already turned to stare out of the window, "And you're not going fucking anywhere."

I only rolled my eyes, remaining silent as she rested her hand on my thigh.

Something that made a different heat unfold within me.

"I'm taking you out on the yacht today," Sevan said, briefly squeezing my thigh.

I lazily raised my brow, "I chill there then," I mumbled, still pissed off by her previous choice of words.

"Zinovia," Sevan said, and I could easily feel her dark eyes on me yet again.

I ignored her stare.

"You say I chill—I chill then," I said, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back in my seat.

Sevan let out yet another sigh, removing her hand from my thigh as she turned into the familiar long driveway.

I never thought I would be happy to be at her house, but I swear I just want to get the fuck away from her.

Even if it means we'll be in the small confines of a boat in an hour or two.

???????

Small was the last word I should've used.

Sevan's yacht has numerous rooms on it to the point that you could get lost.

But I kept it simpler and decided to lay out on one of the decks, rubbing my own sunscreen in before Sevan could offer.

Which is something she clearly wanted to do.

I could tell by the way she stared at me.

Or maybe it was the fact that I took my cover-up off and wore nothing but a tiny black bathing suit.

Which undeniably showed off my chest that Sevan tried to subtly eye, but it was so fucking obvious.

Meanwhile, I refused to glance at Sevan for too long.

Given her lack of clothing.

All she wore was black shorts and a matching swim top, displaying so much of her tan skin roaming with tattoos.

"I gotta take this," Sevan suddenly said, referring to her ringing phone as I slipped my sunglasses on, "It's Mireya," she purposely emphasized her full name.

I lazily raised my brows, "I chill and take nap," I emphasized back, settling in on the cushioned lounge chair, "Take all the time you need."

Sevan only hummed once, clearly disapproving of my behavior as she walked away from me.

I rolled my eyes as I settled deeper in the chair, letting out a content sigh as my body practically soaked in every ray of the harsh sun.

A force that I wasn't quite accustomed to.

This heat was certainly... fucking annoying.

If anything it made me sweat unbearably, twisting and turning as I tried to rest my eyes.

But eventually, I just said fuck it and stood up from my chair with an irritated sigh.

I will just take my nap inside.

After some vodka and something to eat—given I refused to eat earlier.

So I found my way into the kitchen after a few dead-end hallways, finding a fruit bowl in the fridge.

Which I stood in front of for a moment to cool down.

Until I went in search of a bottle of vodka, eating the various fruits as I walked around the enormous yacht.

Eventually, I made it back to one of the higher decks, stopping by the stocked mini bar.

And almost immediately, I sat my bowl down and grabbed four shot glasses.

All for me of course.

I probably should do a few rounds to even feel anything given it's not real vodka.

"Four shots?" I heard her familiar voice, immediately causing me to glance up from the last shot I had been filling to the brim.

"Da, this is only... spicy water," I settled on the term, smirking slightly when Sevan laughed at my words.

"Your tolerance is fucking concerning, Zinovia," Sevan determined, stopping in front of the bar that I stood behind.

And subtly glancing down to my chest yet again.

"Do you want me to cover up, Sevan?" I asked almost purposely, grabbing two shots and taking them back to back.

"The opposite," Sevan said almost bluntly, tilting her head as she openly eyed more of my exposed body.

I lazily raised my brows, "Too bad you require me to beg," I mumbled, picking up the last two filled shots to take.

"Too bad," Sevan murmured, watching as I threw back both of the shots.

Which tasted milder than spicy water as I had previously described the vodka to be.

"I have something for you," Sevan suddenly said, easily piquing my interest.

I raised a brow, "That's not a good thing," I determined, eyeing Sevan as she walked around the bar toward me.

And I couldn't help but glance down to her hands.

That held a small wooden box.

One that I recognized almost immediately, especially with the familiar company logo.

"I don't like you mad baby," Sevan whispered as she reached for my waist.

I narrowed my eyes at her, "I am always mad," I corrected her.

Sevan hummed as she pulled me into her warm body, "And now you'll be mad with your favorite cigars," she said, leaning down to my lips and briefly kissing them even if I refused to tilt my head back.

"I prefer Xanax," I mumbled as she pulled back slightly, glancing down when she opened the wooden box.

"Now that's something you really need to chill on," Sevan said, purposefully emphasizing the annoying word.

I only shrugged as I grabbed one of the cigars from the wooden box she held, watching as she grabbed a lighter from her black shorts.

But instead of letting me take it from her, she lifted the lighter up instead.

Which naturally made me slide the cigar between my lips, staring up into her dark eyes as she flicked the lighter to life.

And lit the end of the cigar for me.

I hummed as I inhaled a deep breath, running one of my hands up her exposed toned stomach and outlining her muscles under my manicured nails.

I suddenly grabbed the cigar from my lips, purposely exhaling the thick cloud of smoke in her face.

"This I like," I sighed out, tilting my head back as I eyed her lips.

Sevan smirked as her dark eyes watched me take another drag of the cigar, letting the smoke swirl between us before the sea breeze carried it away.

"It's the least I could do," she murmured, her raspy voice dropping even lower as she secured her arms back around my waist, "You know I like keeping you satisfied."

I scoffed, "Spare me sweet talk, Sevan," I said, rolling my eyes at her words even if they made my pulse quicken, "We both know you like me better when I'm not easy to please."

Sevan chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver through me despite how warm I felt, "You're right," she murmured softly as her hand on my waist slid lower, and for a moment, I thought she might test my patience further.

But she surprised me, stepping back and letting the heat between us cool.

"Finish your cigar," Sevan ordered, naturally making my eyes narrow at her, "We've got some business to discuss before you pass out from all that spicy water you just downed," she added almost sarcastically.

I raised a brow, "Business?" I questioned, taking another drag from the cigar and eyeing her curiously, "Since when do you talk business on yacht?" I purposely asked.

Sevan tilted her head, "Since Moscow burns without its princess," she said, her voice turning more serious, even if the name she referred to me as sounded irritatingly sexy instead, "Mireya's handling Nerissa, but it's time to plan what comes next. We always think steps ahead."

I clenched my jaw, annoyance bubbling back up at the reminder of Nerissa still having the nerve to go against me after the warning I sent her.

I can't wait to see her head detached from her body.

"I handle my own problems," I mumbled, wrapping my lips around the cigar for another brief inhale.

"And look where that got you," Sevan shot back, her expression unreadable but her tone as sharp as fucking ever, "You don't work alone, Zinovia. Whether you like it or not."

I held her stare for a long moment, the tension between us thickening like the smoke I exhaled.

I'm not sure when this shifted into business between us, but I fucking hate it.

So I made the tense silence stretch even further, the waves lapping against the side of the yacht the only sound between us.

I hated that Sevan was right—that the threads of control I could slip through my fingers like sand overnight.

I finally shrugged, breaking the silence with a lazy exhale, "Fine, Tell me your plan, Sevan," I mumbled almost reluctantly.

Sevan's lips twitched up into an annoying smirk—one that I wanted to wipe right off her face with a harsh slap.

But I refrained.

"That's more like it, Zi," Sevan said, her grip tightening around my waist and forcing a deep heat to burn around me.

Especially with her body barely brushing mine.

I narrowed my eyes, leaning in until our faces were inches apart, "Keep antagonizing me and I fucking leave," I gritted, hating her backhanded tone and the expression on her face.

"Leave?" Sevan murmured almost in amusement.

"I disappear off face of earth," I purposely said, barely loud enough to be heard, but the way her grip tightened around my waist told me she heard every syllable I just said.

"You won't," Sevan said almost confidently, leaning down so that her forehead nearly brushed against mine, "Because you know I'll come after you, and we'd both hate how that ends."

I let out a bitter laugh, lowering my cigar off to the side, "You think I'm scared of you, Sevan?" I asked, feeling almost offended by that possible assumption.

Sevan's lips curved into a smirk that I could feel more than see, "No, I think you're scared of losing control," she leaned into my ear to whisper, her words caressing the shell of my ear, making my breath hitch. "And I think you're scared of how much you like it when I take it from you."

I clenched my jaw, forcing my expression into something cold and detached, even as my pulse pumped violently under my skin.

Blyat.

"You like thinking you know me so well," I bit back, but it lacked the bite I wanted, the fire I normally had.

Because maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Sevan leaned back just enough to meet my eyes again, searching my face with that infuriating patience of hers. "I know enough," she said, and in her tone, I heard a promise—one I wasn't sure I wanted to decipher.

I rolled my eyes, flicking the ash from my cigar over the nearby railing, letting it scatter into the wind, "You don't know shit, Sevan," I gritted, even though my own voice sounded hollow and unconvincing.

And I could tell by her expression that she recognized that immediately.

I clenched my jaw when Sevan suddenly reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, making my chest ache in a way I would never admit out loud.

"Let me show you how much I do baby," Sevan murmured, and for a moment, there was nothing cold or calculated in her eyes—just a heat that matched my own, simmering between us and ready to consume.

Especially when she leaned in even deeper, barely grazing her nose against mine as she refused to break away from my stare.

"Just tell me how badly you want me to show you," Sevan whispered, her warm breath fanning so perfectly across my face, "And it's yours."

I remained silent for a moment, feeling my jaw naturally clench as a rough heat shot down my spine.

Everything around me felt warm.

Especially with her hands suddenly sliding down to grip the back of my thighs.

And somehow my stare was zoned in on her lips, not even recalling glancing down.

Maybe—

Nyet.

I refuse to give in.

She does not get her way and me.

I blinked almost three times in a row, immediately glancing away from her with hopes of fighting the irritating ache growing around me.

Because that's what she wants.

"I don't beg, Sevan," I reminded her, leaning away to take another drag of the lit cigar as I avoided her dark eyes.

"Whatever you say Zi," Sevan said, taking a step back from me and irritatingly removing her arms from around my waist, "I'll be down at the lower deck to strategize."

I nodded almost stiffly, staring off toward the ocean as she backed away from me—leaving me alone to finish my cigar.

But the truth is it was no longer fucking satisfying.

Mostly because I was unsure of how long we could keep this up.

Or how long I could keep this up.

A part of me did contemplate the idea of caving.

But I knew I would never willingly act on it.