The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,59
the very obviously pregnant belly.
I turn to Konstantin and stare at him, but he’s avoiding my gaze.
The woman descends the stairs as she smiles at Vasily. “Nice to see you again, Vasily.”
“Wish I could say the same, Liza.” He shakes his head and pushes past her, heading for a door to the right.
“Hey there, baby daddy,” she purrs at Konstantin and slinks her arm through his.
He shrugs her off and moves away from her touch.
Konstantin is having a baby.
It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t hurt. He’s rotten, I remind myself. He’s saving Grandpa and that’s all that matters, nothing else. I’ll stay here, put up with seeing the man I once dreamed about, having a baby with this trashy fake woman, and I’ll grin and bear it for my grandpa. It’s as simple, and as complicated, as that.
In all the things that have happened to me in the last twenty-four hours, this is the second worst; after not being able to be with Grandpa while he has his treatment. How the hell will I survive being holed up here with the terrifying Vasily and having to pay witness to Konstantin and this woman playing happy families? It’s more than my stupid little heart can bear.
“Liza, meet Cassie,” Konstantin finally meets my gaze, and there’s nothing in his gorgeous eyes. No apology. No shame. Nothing.
“Cassie, are you the new cleaner?” Liza smiles brightly at me.
“Cut it out, Liza. She’s a very important employee, and you’ll give her zero shit while she’s here.” Then he turns to me. “Seeing as you’re the only two women here, you may as well try to get on with one another, spend some time together.”
Oh, no way in hell. I’m only just about holding onto the vomit rising in my stomach at the idea that Konstantin is low enough to knock up this vile woman. I hate her already, and I’ve only spent a few minutes in her company.
“Which room is Cassie in, darling?” Liza asks.
“Call me darling one more time and you’ll be out on the street,” Konstantin snaps.
Oh my God, he gets worse and worse.
“Fine by me, so long as you pay for your mistake,” she says patting her belly. “In cash. In fact, I’d rather you did that. Let me go and when the baby is born, you get visitation rights, and we don’t have to be in one another’s hair.”
He growls, grabs her wrists, and drags her past me into a room, kicking the door shut.
Holy shit. He’s keeping the two of us here against our will. What is this? Kidnap central. It makes me feel a little better to know she doesn’t want to be here, and he clearly doesn’t like her, not anymore. That he ever did makes me wonder about him and his life choices.
Vasily comes out of the room he was in, eating a chocolate bar and shakes his head. “Knew she was trouble from the start. Out of all of them, knew she’d be the one to cause him grief. She’s a wily snake, that girl.”
“It seems my father has no ability to keep it in his pants.” Michael shakes his head in mock sorrow. “And yet, he’s always so judgmental of others.”
Even his son knows Konstantin is a prize hypocrite! God, what a piece of shit. I hope Liza takes him for every penny and bleeds him dry; once Grandpa has had his treatment, of course.
“Want to play Call of Duty?” Vasily asks, neatly sidestepping the issue of Konstantin’s morality, and Michael’s eyes light up.
“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Let’s go to the den.”
They walk off and leave me standing there. I’ve no idea where to go. I don’t know which room is what in this huge house.
In this moment, I hate my life with more ferocity than I thought possible. Things seem horribly bleak. My future is in ruins. No job, once this debacle is over. No fiancé. No secret crush because Konstantin turned out to be shitty. It’s as bleak as one of those Russian novels I thought I wanted to live in.
Nothing. I have nothing. Then, I tell myself to get a grip and get over my pity party. I have my grandpa, for a few more years at least. And that is thanks to the man I’m half hating on, half still unwillingly crushing on.
The huge man, the blond one with the massive biceps, walks into the hallway, and I give a small scream at the gun he’s holding.
The door to my left,