He coughs, but it doesn’t turn into a fit. After taking a sip of water, he clears his throat and speaks in accented English. “It’s very unfortunate that you lost your memories, Rai.”
I pause sipping from the soup. “Yes.”
“However, it won’t end well if it goes on like this.”
“I agree.” Kyle peels a piece of lobster then places it on my plate like some doting husband. He’s excellent at playing the protective role and being there every step of the way.
It would’ve been so much easier if he were cold and treated me as he said on the phone. Like I’m nothing. Like he’ll leave me behind.
Because no matter how much I try to ignore it, this act has been throwing me off since the hospital.
“What do you mean it can’t go on, Papa?” Anastasia asks in a small voice.
“If the shareholders know Rai has lost her memory, they will actively try to dismiss her from her position. Her memory loss will remain between us.”
“Damien and Kirill found out,” I say.
“Vladimir, too.” Kyle’s voice is calm, but it’s deceptive, lethal.
“I’ve spoken to them and they will keep this a secret.”
“Damien and Kirill?” I scoff. “Damien might not care, but Kirill wouldn’t let this slide just because you told him to.”
“He’s smart enough to know changing V Corp’s management would be detrimental for the brotherhood, especially at times like these.” Sergei sips from his water, clearing his throat and huffing out deep breaths. I know it’s taking everything in him to rein in the cough.
If it were anyone else, they would’ve given up and spent their days in a peaceful private clinic. But like me, Granduncle knows sacrifices should be made. As Dedushka once told me, nothing great is easily accomplished, because if that were the case, anyone could be great.
“Rai,” he calls.
“Yes?”
“You’ll act as you usually do. Fortunately, there’s not much difference personality-wise, but ten years ago, you didn’t have your degree and were dependent on Nikolai.”
“Ruslan and Katia will help.”
“I need someone closer to watch over you.” He grabs a fork and points it at the man sitting beside me. “Kyle.”
No. This isn’t how the plan is supposed to go. I can’t have Kyle with me at all times. That will definitely expose my plan.
Said jerk places his hand on top of mine and squeezes gently. “Of course. Anything to help her.”
“I can figure it out on my own.” I try arguing with my granduncle. “I have Ruslan and Katia. Vlad, too.”
“I’m not taking any risks. We have a lot at stake right now, and if V Corp’s profits are in jeopardy, the brotherhood won’t have anything to fall back on.”
I get Sergei’s angle, I really do, I just don’t like where this is going. I’ve spent so long growing V Corp, and now Kyle will get his filthy hands into one of the legacies I’ve been fighting tooth and nail for.
I don’t like that I have to keep up with Kyle even in company matters. I grew that company, it was me, so why does he get to stick his nose in it?
“Kyle and Anastasia will help you in the company so you don’t slip in front of the employees.”
“Anything to help Rayenka.” She beams, and I smile back even though I want to tell Granduncle there’s no way I’d slip. I can’t, because that would blow the cover I’ve spent too long perfecting.
After dinner, we retreat to our room.
I remain near the entrance, arms crossed, as I concentrate on the situation and my options.
Kyle is already inside, removing his jacket and laying it casually on a chair—the same chair he fucked me over the other night while I screamed his name. I close my eyes to chase away the assault of the memories. That’s the last thing I need in this situation.
Focus, Rai.
Facing him, I speak in my sternest tone. “I want separate rooms.”
He doesn’t even lift his head, and I’m not sure whether or not he heard me, so I repeat, “I said, I want separate rooms.”
This time, he stares at me as he unbuttons his shirt, his fingers gliding on the buttons unhurriedly, almost like in some strip show. “And I want you to remember. Sadly, we don't always get what we want, Princess.”
“If you expect me to share a room with you, you’re crazy.”
“What’s so crazy about a married couple sharing a room?” He stalks toward me, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the snake tattoo that’s rippling against his chest muscles. “Have you forgotten that we’re married?”
“I don’t remember that so you’re simply a stranger, and I can’t share a bed with a stranger.”
He halts in front of me, somehow caging me between his frame and the door. Kyle pauses at his fourth button, hinting at his chiseled chest, but not exactly showing it. And now I’m staring at his chest. Jesus.