Page 27 of Prince Charming

“I have been using the office phone without permission. Many times, Tag. I’m so sorry, I will pay for the calls, you can take it from my paycheck.”

“The calls to Russia, yeah, darlin’, I know.” he said, and every inch of Marianna’s lungs poured out in a shocked rush.

“You know? But you have said nothing. You didn’t fire me.”

When a man was comfortable and confident in his size, a simple half shoulder shrug could look rugged.

“It’s a phone call, nothing to get fired for.”

“It was many expensive calls, Tag. I stole from you, I didn’t pay for them.”

“If this is the biggest criminal shit you’ve ever done, you’ve got a long way to catch up to me, get me? Don’t worry about it. But now you brought it up, it’s my time to ask you something.”

It was nerves that skittered down her spine.

Perching on the arm of the sofa, he waited until Marianna dropped to the chair.

“We haven’t talked about it, darlin’, and I’m not asking now, that’s your business, but we both know how we met.”

Her blood turned cold.

She hated the look of sympathy on his face.

Hated it.

She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her.

Marianna wasn’tdamaged.

She was like most of the human population; she made a mistake and was dealing with the fallout. There was no room to endure anyone’s sympathy, least of all Tag’s, who’d seen her in the lowest point of her life. It was one in a long line of reasons she held him at arm’s length, even when he was the only person she could trust. She hated how he’d seen her, so weak and pathetic.

She was more than glad Grigori was dead.

If that made her a wicked person then she was wicked. He’d used her for his own gains, treating her likea pet, promising her freedom in America.Just a little while longer, malen’kaya.

But he lied.

He lied about everything.

“TheBratvaaren’t in Colorado anymore.” She hoped they all perished in Hell. Especially her ex-boyfriend. “And I hope you can forgive me for asking, but I gotta ask anyway, darlin’. These calls you’re making back home. Is it to someone who can bring bad shit here?”

Her forehead puckered, not understanding at first. And it had nothing to do with the language barrier. She understood most of Tag’s colloquialisms and slang terms.

Bad shit? What did he mean?

“I don’t understand, bad shit from who?”

“TheBratva. Are you talking to anyone from theBratvaback home?”

If it were possible to lose all the blood in the body and remain alive, then Marianna was living proof. It drained out of her face.

He came to his feet. Concerned. “Babe.”

“No. You do not get to approach me.I want you to leave. I want you to leave right now.” The pain in her chest grew outward, burning as it traveled.

His regret was clear. So was hers.

He had no reason to trust her. Dear god, she’d confessed to stealing from him, of course he should be suspicious.

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