Page 35 of His Prince

The car starts and as it backs up, Mikhail appears on the porch, his eyes narrowing as his lover drives off with a wave. Those blue eyes swivel to me, and I let my gaze drag from his face down to his crotch before snapping the shears in his direction. He knows what’s in the contract. He’s not fucking anyone else.

I snap them once more for good measure and then waggle them at him with a big smile plastered on my face.

I’m loving these. So versatile.

His eye twitches and I see his jaw working back and forth before he turns on his heel and disappears back into the house, the door slamming behind him.

Good, I think as I take a deep breath. My mind spins as I fiddle with the shears, and I realize I’m not done. Not yet.

Because these would cut through fabric quite well…and drywall would be a breeze.

Yes, these will work very, very well for what I have planned.

8

MIKHAIL

My husband is becoming quite the problem.

Even more so than the shitty money-laundering businesses I have to deal with. Ivan takes care of our cryptocurrency deals, thank fuck, but I’m still in charge of managing our multitude of small businesses and the new shell companies I acquired in the Costello deal, and it’s a goddamn nightmare.

Right now, I’m brooding in my office while everyone around my house is smiling and laughing. The sound of it makes my head ache. I turn my gaze out to the trees that aid in hiding the garden from my view and realize that my husband is determined to put it back together, to make it alive once more. I rub at my temples, thinking of how much I want it to stay dead and destroyed.

My dick twitches when I think of the way Angel drove Jemma away. She’s been a reliable, easy fuck for the past year but refuses to put up with any bullshit. This means I’ll have to find someone to replace her. She won’t be back. She told me that any sign of trouble, any drama, and we’d be done.

Angelo Costello.

He’s the drama. He’s the problem.

I run a hand down my face and stare at the ugly gold wall in my office and feel my lips turn down in a frown.

My husband is turning out to be a menace.

He fooled me with his sweet smile and those pretty blushes.

I lean back in my chair, the squeak of leather penetrating the silence, and pick up my phone, placing an order for gray paint and a few rollers to be delivered to the house later today. I’ll fix this damn wall, put it back to the way it was. I’ll make this place my home once more, despite him doing everything he can to ruin it.

I can’t catch a fucking break.

Between the missing money Ivan detected this weekend that we need to track down to my house turning into a cheap version of achild’s drawing, I’m about ready to murder someone.

Perhaps Georgiy can scrounge up someone particularly evil for me to take a turn with.

Although, that sounds so fucking exhausting.

Maybe I should just cut my losses and let it all fall apart.

Maybe I should walk away from it all and let it burn.

Something moves past my office window in my periphery, and I turn toward it. Through the glare of the afternoon sun, I see a figure at the far end of the property.

A vision in white, red lining the neck.

I scrub at my tired eyes, blinking back outside, feeling like I’m losing my fucking mind.

It’s gone. The ghost dispelled along with my sanity.

I need to check the cameras to make sure no one is really lurking about.

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