16. Sofia
16
SOFIA
I try to focus on the authentication papers before me, but my phone buzzes again. Heat floods my cheeks as I read Nikolai’s latest message describing what he plans to do to me later.
“Ms. Henley?” Mr. Patterson clears his throat. “About the provenance documentation?”
“Yes, of course.” I shuffle the papers, trying to remember where we left off. “The piece was exhibited at Galerie Durand-Ruel in 1876, and we have the original sales receipt from—” My phone vibrates again.
I cross my legs, fighting the urge to check it. The weight of Mr. Patterson’s stare makes me straighten my spine. “My apologies. As I said, the documentation shows a clear chain of ownership.”
Another buzz. My fingers twitch.
“Are you feeling well? You seem distracted.” Mr. Patterson frowns.
“Just a busy morning.” I force a professional smile, but my mind drifts to Nikolai’s strong hands, the way he—No. Focus.
I’ve built this gallery’s reputation on meticulous attention to detail. I can barely string two thoughts together without imagining steel-gray eyes and that knowing smirk.
“Perhaps we should reschedule?” Mr. Patterson suggests.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” I stand, smoothing my skirt. “Let me walk you through the technical analysis reports.”
My phone buzzes twice in rapid succession. Mr. Patterson’s eyebrows rise.
“Actually, you may be right. Shall we continue this tomorrow? Same time?” I’m already gathering the papers, my cheeks burning.
After he leaves, I slump against my desk and check the messages.
I open my messages, each one making my breath catch.
I can still taste you on my tongue from this morning, malishka.
Those silk panties you’re wearing? I’m going to tear them off with my teeth.
I bet you’re wet right now, thinking about how I’m going to bend you over that antique desk...
Send me a photo of what’s mine.
My thighs clench as I read his explicit descriptions of what he plans to do to me tonight. The final message shows he sent it right as Mr. Patterson asked about the documentation.
With trembling fingers, I type back:
You just cost me a $2M deal with Patterson. He rescheduled it because I couldn’t focus. Are you happy now?
His response is immediate.
Very. No one else deserves your attention.
This is my business, Nikolai. My livelihood. You can’t just...
I’ll buy the piece myself. Double his offer.
That’s not the point! You’re impossible.
And you’re mine. I’ll see you at 8. Wear something accessible.
I slam my phone down, fury and arousal warring inside me. How dare he be so presumptuous? Yet even as I seethe, I’m already wondering what to wear tonight.
I check my watch and curse under my breath. I’m already running late to meet Tash. After the messages from Nikolai left me flustered, I barely had time to touch up my lipstick before rushing out to catch an Uber.
Tash waves from our usual corner table at Sorellina when I arrive, already sipping her martini. “You look thoroughly ravished.”
“Is it that obvious?” I slide into my seat, ordering a much-needed glass of wine.
“Please. You’re practically glowing.” She leans forward, perfectly manicured nails drumming on the table. “Spill everything. And don’t skip the juicy parts.”
I bite my lip, heat creeping up my neck. “He’s... intense. Controlling. Drives me absolutely crazy.”
“In bed or in general?”
“Both!” I take a generous sip of the wine the server just delivered. “One minute, he’s sending me explicit texts while I’m with clients; the next, he’s buying million-dollar paintings just because he made me lose focus during a meeting.”
Tash’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Possessive much?”
“You have no idea. He actually said, ‘No one else deserves your attention.’”
“And that makes you oh so excited for him, doesn’t it?” She smirks when I choke on my wine. “Oh honey, you’re so far gone.”
“I hate how well he reads me. How he knows exactly what I need before I do.” I drop my head in my hands. “What am I doing, Tash?”
“Finally, having mind-blowing sex with a dangerous, gorgeous man who’s obsessed with you?” She shrugs elegantly. “About time, if you ask me. You’ve been wound too tight since college.”
“You’re terrible.” But I can’t help laughing. This is why I love Tash because she always cuts through my overthinking with brutal honesty.
“That’s why you keep me around.” She raises her glass. “To finally let loose with a sexy Russian mobster.”
“Keep it down!” I hiss but can’t help laughing at Tash’s bluntness. A couple at the next table glances our way. “I swear, you’re going to get us kicked out of every restaurant in Boston.”
“Please, they love me here.” Tash waves to the ma?tre d’, who gives her a warm smile.
I reach across and squeeze her hand. “How are you doing, really? You’ve been working crazy hours at the museum.”
“Ugh, this new exhibition is killing me.” She drains her martini. “The curator from the Louvre is a nightmare. Yesterday, she actually made an intern cry over the lighting placement.”
“You poor thing. Remember when we thought working in the art world would be glamorous?”
“Speak for yourself. I’m still glamorous.” She flips her hair dramatically, making me snort into my wine. “Though not as glamorous as your new activities.”
“Tash!”
“What? I’m living vicariously through your sex life since mine is currently deader than that mummy in basement storage.”
She always knows how to make me laugh, even when my world is spinning out of control. We’ve been there for each other through everything since college: bad breakups, career disasters, family drama. She’s the sister I never had.
“I’ve missed this,” I admit. “We need to do lunch more often.”
“Agreed. Next time, let’s skip the fancy place and get pizza. I’m tired of pretending to know what half these menu items are.”
“Sounds perfect. I could use some comfort food right now.” I signal the server to bring our actual lunch orders.
While Tash launches into a story about her latest museum drama, my phone stays suspiciously quiet. I know Nikolai’s playing with me after that barrage of messages earlier. The silence feels deliberate. He’s probably in some meeting, plotting his next move while I squirm.
“Earth to Sofia?” Tash waves her fork at me. “You just missed my entire rant about the incompetent lighting crew.”
“Sorry.” I push my salad around the plate. “I’m being terrible company.”
“You’re being someone in lust. There’s a difference.” She steals an olive from my plate. “Though I must admit, it’s entertaining watching you check your phone every thirty seconds.”
“I am not—” My phone buzzes, and I nearly knock over my wine, reaching for it.
Tash’s knowing laugh makes me flush. “You were saying?”
I ignore her, opening the message. It’s just a business email. Disappointment floods through me, which is ridiculous. I saw him this morning, and I’ll see him tonight. This neediness isn’t like me.
“The great Sofia Henley, brought low by a man.” Tash’s voice holds more affection than mockery. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Neither did I.” I take a long sip of wine. “He just gets under my skin. Makes me crazy.”
“In the best way, clearly.”
My mind drifts to this morning—Nikolai’s hands pinning my wrists, his mouth on my neck, the way he growled “mine” against my skin. Heat pools low in my belly.
“And there you go again, getting all dreamy-eyed.” Tash’s voice snaps me back. “Should I leave you alone with your thoughts?”
“Stop it.” I throw my napkin at her, laughing despite myself. But even as we return to lighter topics, my thoughts circle back to steel-gray eyes and possessive hands.