Chapter Twenty-Six
Mindy
"Oh my God, Mindy!" Betty exclaims, rushing over to me with a look of relief and concern on her face. I have just entered our shared apartment after returning from the trip Maron and I took to Moscow. "Where the hell have you been? What happened?"
Shit. The desperate attempt to call Betty before I was forced into Maron’s car must have given her a scare. I texted her to calm her down before Maron’s jet took off, telling her that I’d be away for a couple of days, but I guess I was a little vague. No wonder she was worried. I need to do better next time as a friend and tell her about my whereabouts.
"I’m sorry, Bets," I tell her, feeling guilty. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll communicate better next time."
She frowns. "Something is going on with you, Mindy. I can see it on your face. I know you too well."
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the last couple of days crashing down on me. I set my bags down and collapse onto the couch. "I am really sorry. It was just… a very intense couple of days."
Betty plops down next to me and her eyes widen with excitement as she takes in my outfit.
"I bet. I mean… look at the stuff you’re wearing! That pullover is to die for." She gives me a playful nudge. "It’s quite the upgrade from our thrift store days." Her gaze drifts down to my shoes. "And those heels? Holy shit, Mindy! Did you win the lottery or rob a bank?"
I pause, nibbling on my lip. I know I have some explaining to do, but where do I even start? Do I tell her about getting kidnapped? Or dining like royalty, and feeling sparks fly with a guy I barely know? And the fact that I’m technically tied to him now through our so-called marriage deal? I'm still trying to wrap my own head around that last one.
I look into Betty's eyes, knowing there are some things I have to share with her. She's my ride-or-die, the one person who always has my back, no matter what crazy shit I get involved in.
"Alright, Bets," I begin. "What I'm about to spill stays between us, no matter what. You can’t tell anyone. Got it?”
Betty snorts, rolling her eyes. "Girl, please. You know I can keep a secret better than a spy.”
“I’m serious, Bets. This is between you and me.”
“My lips are sealed," she reassures me.
"I was with Maron Korolev," I admit.
Betty’s face shows no shock. "No shit. Tell me something I haven’t figured out already."
"In Moscow," I finally drop the bomb.
Betty's jaw drops. "In Moscow? Like, in Russia Moscow? What the heck were you two doing there?"
I take a deep breath, my cheeks flushing as I meet Betty's curious gaze. My friend leans forward, her eyes widening with a mix of concern and anticipation. "What, Mindy? Did he... did he hurt you?"
I shake my head quickly, my blush deepening. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just... well, the way he took me to Moscow. It was like something out of a crap movie. Except it was true."
I describe how I was picked up by Pavel on the street, leaving out most of the scary stuff. The last thing I want to do is worry Betty even more. She is listening intently, her eyes growing wider as I reveal the details.
"And then... oh my God, Bets. We took Maron’s jet. You know I’m not the gold digger type, but this thing is the epitome of luxury. Unlike anything I've ever seen before."
Betty lets out a low whistle, her expression a mix of awe and envy. "Damn, girl. That's some James Bond-level shit right there." She looks at me. "You didn't sleep with him, right?" She mocks surprise. "Okay, I just asked the world's stupidest question. But, oh my God, Mindy," Betty exclaims. "So, this all happened with Maron Korolev, the CEO of Global Media, my boss, your ex-boss, and the world's sexiest asshole, all in one?"
I nod, and I can’t help but smile. "It was... intense, Bets. Like nothing I've ever experienced before intense."
Betty leans back against the cushions, and there’s a hint of worry in her expression. "I can't believe this. I mean, I know you've always had a thing for bad boys, but Maron Korolev? He's in a league of his own."
I nod, biting my lip as I try to sort through the jumble of emotions that are still swirling in my chest. She doesn’t even know the craziest part. The marriage proposal, the contract, the whole package. As much as I want to tell her, I know I can’t. I gave Maron my word to keep it a secret. Not to mention that it would void our contract immediately and probably get me into a lot of trouble.
Betty continues to eye me with a knowing look on her face like she’s suspecting something. She ultimately heaves a sigh and reaches for my hand. "Look, Min. If you want this guy, I understand. Hell, I wouldn’t be able to resist his charm either. But… just be careful, okay? There's… there’s just something about Maron Korolev. Something that worries me."
My heart skips a beat at her words. I glance up at Betty. "What do you mean?"
My friend pauses, fidgeting with her fingers. She appears to be weighing her words carefully before she speaks. "I don’t know anything for sure but… this kind of wealth, power, and that air of danger that surrounds the guy... I don’t know, Min. It just feels shady."
I swallow hard. My thoughts immediately drift back to the conversation I had with Maron, at the hotel in Moscow. Right before we made love and he blew my mind for the umpteenth time. The complicated history of his family. His connection to the Bratva. Not to mention our deal… But of course, I don’t say anything about it to Betty. I can’t. Not just because I can’t betray Maron, but I also can’t expect Betty to keep a secret while she’s worried sick about me. So, I stay quiet, wondering if I’m doing something incredibly stupid by getting involved with Maron Korolev. Am I putting myself in danger? Am I playing with powers far greater than what I’m able to control?
As if reading my mind, Betty leans in closer. Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Mindy, there are rumors at Global Media about Maron. Everything is hush-hush, of course. But gossip has it that Global Media is just a cover for something... sketchy."
I look up at her, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "What do you mean? What kind of rumors?"
Betty glances around as if making sure that no one else is listening. "Well, you know how people are. Always looking for the next big scandal to talk about. There is talk that Maron's wealth and power don't just come from his media empire. That there's something else going on behind the scenes and Global Media is just a big money laundering machine."
I gulp, but stay quiet. I feel the knot of unease tightening in my stomach and my throat, as my mind races with the implications of Betty's words. Whatever the case, I know Maron has ties with the Russian mafia. The Bratva , as they call it. And the Bratva isn’t exactly the most legal business on the planet.
"You know, Mindy,” Betty continues, “some folks say that Maron Korolev has something to do with organ trade."
My eyes widen like saucers. "Organ trade? Are you serious?"
Betty nods. "You remember Ethan from HR, right? The one who was on medical leave for almost a year?"
I nod slowly, my brow furrowing as I try to recall the details. "Yeah, I remember. He had some kind of kidney disease or something, right?"
Betty leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That’s right. Rumor started going around that he needed a transplant. And that he couldn’t get a donor. Eventually, Maron sorted it out for him. That's how the guy is still alive. He paid it back to Maron in installments."
My eyes widen. "Uh-hum."
Betty shrugs. "But then again, this might all be just talk. You know how it is. People love a good conspiracy theory. Maybe it was nothing but a favor for a loyal employee."
Whether Maron did Ethan a favor or not, there’s still a knot in my stomach. Knowing that Maron was born into the Bratva, I can’t help but think that there’s an element of truth to Betty’s gossip. If Maron is really involved in organ trade... what other shady stuff could he be into? Drugs, guns, human trafficking? How does he pay for all his expensive suits, his limo, and that fancy flying apartment?
My hands are trembling slightly as I meet Betty's gaze. "Thanks for telling me, Bets. A part of me wants to believe that it's all just gossip. Maybe it is. But you’re right, I gotta be more careful."
Betty grabs my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Good. I mean, I know the guy is hot as hell and everything, but you mustn’t let that cloud your judgment. He’s a freaking billionaire and that’s a world you and I know very little about. Who knows what guys like him are capable of?"
I keep a serious expression as I look into Betty’s eyes. Now I know better than anything that I can never tell her the things I learned about Maron. Especially the Bratva stuff. It would just worry her to death. Not to mention that I have no clue what dangers I would put her in.
“Thanks for looking out for me, Bets. I’ll be careful. I promise,” is all I say.