Page 27

MIA

When I get downstairs, Yulian is already there, leaning against his sleek Maybach. His eyes widen as he sees me, but he schools it quickly.

“You’re late.”

I glance at the Cartier watch he sent me. I haven’t checked how much it’s worth—I’d be too tempted to sell it. “By two minutes?”

“Time is money,” he says flatly. “Especially my time.”

I roll my eyes and head to the car. Yulian’s gaze doesn’t leave me for a second, a gray storm I can’t decipher. Hot, cold, and everything in between.

Then, as I’m about to open the door, I hear it.

“Mommy!” Eli comes hurtling like a bullet into the empty street, waving his hand wildly. “You forgot your phone!”

From the staircase windows, I can see Kallie wheeze, struggling to keep up.

Shit.

Until now, I’ve done everything I could to keep my two lives separate. Everything to prevent the darkness of Yulian’s world from tainting Eli’s innocence.

Now, I can do nothing but watch them clash.

Yulian sees Eli. His gray eyes, stormy and intense until moments ago, go wide.

Just a fraction.

Just enough to tell me he’s not pleased about this.

Oblivious, Eli jogs forward. “Hello,” he says shyly.

“Hello,” Yulian echoes in his deep rumble.

“Are you a spy?”

Please, Earth, swallow me whole.

“No,” Yulian answers, a little taken aback. If this wasn’t a PR nightmare for me, it’d almost be fun to watch. After all, how rare is it for the great Yulian Lozhkin to stumble? “I’m… not.”

“Are you sure?” Eli crooks his head. “You kind of look like Boris. He delivers our mail now.”

“Does he, now?”

“Mhmm. Mommy says he also keeps us safe.”

“That’s good,” Yulian says. “You can never be too safe.”

“I still think he’s a spy, though. He’s got the accent.”

“Bond villain accent,” I explain awkwardly. “He’s—very into spy movies.”

Yulian’s gaze flicks to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks almost amused. “I remember. You mentioned.”

“Are you Mommy’s boyfriend?”

Before I can be put through the emotional blender of answering that horrifying question, Maksim slips out of the car.

“Who’s the little one?” he chimes in, sounding amused. “Ah, a friend of Mia, I presume?”

“Heh.” I smile awkwardly, pulling him to me. “This is Eli. My—my son.”

Eli’s eyes fix on Maksim now. “Are you a spy?”

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug and an air of mystery. “Wouldn’t tell ya if I was, would I?”

Eli seems to consider it. “That’s fair.”

“Alright!” I pocket my phone and ruffle Eli’s hair. “Now, Mommy really needs to go, so?—”

“Sorry!” Kallie blurts, finally catching up to us. “I told him I could do it, but he said he was faster, and—well, he’s right, haha.”

Yulian doesn’t spare her a glance.

Maksim, however, immediately steps between us. “Well, well,” he drawls, “Mia never told us she had such a pretty friend. Enchanté. My name is Maksim Goncharov, but you can call me your most fervent admirer.”

Then he takes Kallie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

Oh. My. God.

I freeze. That’s gonna be trouble. Kallie isn’t one to tolerate unwelcome advances, not even for the sake of keeping up appearances. Last time a guy tried to dance her up at a bar, she threw her drink on his crotch and told him to sip his own straw.

Sorry, Maksim. Looks like you’re in for a world of ? —

“Oh! U-um, likewise. I’m Kallie. Well, Kalinda, technically, but everyone calls me Kallie, so…”

— Wait, what?

“Kalinda,” he croons, like he’s savoring it. “I hope you won’t mind if I call you that. Such a beautiful name is not made to be shortened, mademoiselle .”

Next to me, Yulian’s foot starts tapping. Never a good sign.

“Quit pretending you’re French,” he barks at Maksim. “No one’s buying it.”

“I lived in Marseilles for two years,” he says proudly. “I’m French-adjacent.”

He still hasn’t let go of Kallie’s hand. To make things worse, Kallie is blushing furiously, like she’s suddenly turned back into a schoolgirl.

I’ve known her for five years, and I have never seen her like this.

“W-well, we really need to, uh… get going now. It was lovely to meet you, Maksim.” She flicks her gaze to the side. “Yulian.”

Yulian’s eyes narrow. Shit—was I not supposed to tell Kallie his name? Was there an NDA somewhere in all those papers? Am I going to be sued for all I’ll ever own?

But Yulian just says, “We’re late.”

“Right,” I interrupt, finding my voice again. “Thanks for the phone, guys. Bye!”

“Bye, Mommy!” Eli waves. “Bye, Maksim! Bye, Yulian!”

Yulian blinks, caught off-guard. But soon enough, Eli disappears back into the building with Kallie, and it’s just us again.

Cue the crickets.

“Look,” I blurt, “I’m sorry about?—”

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t sound particularly angry, but I also don’t want to test it. There’s still something off about him. Something that began the second he saw my son.

I tell myself to forget it and climb into the car.