Page 66 of Oblivion
“It’s alright.” I cracked a smile. “On some level, I understand that she was miserable, but she was weak, and weak people have no place in my life.”
His eyes flickered over my face, taking me in, as if it was the first time he was truly seeing me.
“Do you think I am weak?” he asked, leaning back into the chair.
“That remains to be seen.” I chuckled. “But as much as I love this conversation we have going on, that’s not why we’re here.”
“Oh, really?” He laughed. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“Why waste our precious time, sitting here, when we could get to business.”
“And here I thought you actually wanted to get to know me.”
“I do,” I blurted out, closing my eyes immediately as regret washed over me. I’d spent years hiding my emotions, my thoughts, and ever since Storm took me to Santa Monica, it was as if all of that shattered, leaving me wide open to the world. “I do want to get to know you. I might not trust you at the moment, and I might hold a grudge because you left me with Nikolai—”
“I didn’t have—”
“A choice,” I finished for him. “I know, and I’m trying to understand, but you also need to understand that I need a lot more time to process all of it. I’ve spent years fighting for a man that was a monster, thinking he was my future. I thought I would never be able to get away from him, but I did. And then you come in, telling me all these things, and I don’t know what to think.”
“I understand.” He nodded. “I didn’t expect you to run to me or to trust me immediately. I can’t even imagine the horrors you went through, but I want you to know that I am here and I am not going anywhere.”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, fighting each other and my underlying fear that every single word coming out of his mouth was a lie.
But I’d learned how to read people over the years. I’d learned to look for signs, those little tells, and he had none.
Lazar Asterov was as honest as he could get and I knew he was an ally I needed to have.
“You mentioned the Albanians,” he said, frowning. “I dealt with them.”
“You did.” I nodded. “But there are rumors that the new head of the family is still coming after me. There’s something else you need to know.” I lowered my voice as the waiter came back with my coffee. “Thank you.” I grinned as the waiter placed the tall glass in front of me.
“You’re welcome.” He looked at Lazar almost immediately. “Can I get you anything, sir?”
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Lazar answered, looking at me as if I'd grown two heads as I all but attacked the coffee, completely ignoring the croissant sitting next to it.
“Coming right up,” the guy answered and stepped away from our table.
“What?” I asked and looked at Lazar when he continued staring at me.
“It’s just…” he trailed off. “Sometimes it is easy to forget how young you truly are, until now.”
I leaned back and took the glass with coffee in my right hand, scowling at him.
“It’s because I didn’t have time to be young,” I bit back. “But I know now that everything I went through was meant to make me stronger, and in some weird, fucked-up way, I am actually thankful for it.”
“Yeah, well…” he cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re strong, but I hate to see that sadness in your eyes.”
Flinching, I avoided his eyes, stirring the coffee with a straw.
“I know all about your time in Santa Monica, Ophelia,” Lazar said. “Where is he? Where is Storm?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My throat closed up, my lungs seizing at the mere memory of him, and I hated that just a mention of his name could render me speechless.
“Katya—”
“He hates me.” I smiled, sorrow lacing every nerve of my body. “And he has every right to hate me. He ended up in the hospital because of me. I ran from him, almost destroyed his club thanks to Nikolai, and I cheated on him. Well.” I laughed. “I did think he betrayed me as well, but that’s beside the point.”
