Page 5 of Wicked Refusal

Three months we’ve been apart.

Three months since the night he broke my heart and I broke his.

Three months since I lied about the child in my belly.

To be fair, I hadn’tknownthen. When I told him I was pregnant, it was just to get him off my back—to get that horrible glint of gunmetal far, far away from my sleeping son’s head.

But I guess, deep inside, part of me must have felt the life growing inside me.

And now, he has no idea that life belongs to him, too.

As if reading my mind, Yulian’s stormy gray eyes travel downwards, settling uncomfortably on my midsection. I’m not showing much, not yet, but Yulian knows me. Knows my body inside and out. To him, the slightest swell of my stomach is a dead giveaway.

When his gaze returns to mine, I can feel his heart breaking all over again.

He tames it quickly, though. If there’s anything Yulian Lozhkin always excelled at, it was putting on a mask.

“Mia,” he greets without any emotion.

My heart hardens. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just figured you’d have made an excuse the second you saw the guest list.” He pauses, just the tiniest bit, giving me just enough room to brace before the inevitable dagger to the gut that’s going to come as soon as he says… “You were always good at running away, after all.”

Fuck.I feel that in a way I didn’t know things could hurt. It’s guilt, shame, anger, a hundred other things all wrapped up into one searing, head-to-toe pain.

Before I can answer that—though I don’t have any idea what exactly I should say—an arm slides across my shoulders. “I see you’ve found my surprise.”

Brad.

Cold sweat breaks at the back of my neck. “‘Surprise’?” I echo.

“Of course.” He smiles sweetly down at me—the sweetness of poison. Then, turning to Yulian: “Good of you to show up, partner. I was starting to worry you’d come down with something.”

“You needn’t have concerned yourself.” Yulian’s reply is clipped but calm. “I always keep my word.”

“‘Partner’?” My eyes bounce back and forth between them, trying to make sense of what they’re seeing. “You’re not—can’t be—no, you aren’t partners. No, no way.”

“Oh, sweet thing. How little you know of business.” Brad’s tone is as condescending as ever, with an undercurrent of victory that makes me want to break every oath I’ve ever given. “This is how gentlemen settle their, ah… small disagreements. Isn’t that right, Yul?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Yulian’s teeth were grinding behind sealed lips.

Unfortunately, I do know better. The truth is, I’ve known better for months.

I just didn’t want to believe it.

“So it’s true.” Every word turns bitter on my tongue. “You’re working together.”

“Every luxury complex needs top-notch security. Who better than the CEO of StarTech?”

Brad’s preening now, like a freaking peacock. I’ve never wanted to pluck someone and shove ‘em into the oven for Thanksgiving, but right now? I’m itching to get my hands on some fava beans and a bottle of Chianti.

Instead, I do the sensible thing. The adult thing. The only thing, really.

“Excuse me. I need the restroom.”