Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Briony
"Tell me how you want me to touch you right now."
I stared at my phone screen and nearly spat coffee all over the financial summary.
Varlam hadn't come into the office all morning. He was tied up in meetings at other companies. But apparently he thought making his assistant's heart race during work hours was more important than whatever deal he was closing.
I shot a quick glance at the door. The hallway was quiet. I was alone in the office. Even though no one could see, I still shoved my phone under a stack of files.
"Mr. Petrov, aren't you supposed to be in a meeting?"
"Doesn't mean I can't think about you."
The thought of Varlam murmuring those words in that low voice made my ears burn. Even though things between us had changed drastically since the night he came to me, I still couldn't believe he'd send me something that close to a love note.
"So you're using me to kill time?" My fingers flew, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face.
"I'm giving myself a reason to end this meeting early."
Brin. Every time I heard that nickname, warmth spread through my chest. I remembered that night—how he'd gasped it over and over when he lost control. I didn't need him to confirm he loved me. I'd seen tenderness and care in his eyes.
My phone buzzed again, yanking me back.
"You still haven't answered my first question."
"I want you standing behind me, lifting my skirt."
The second I hit send, I almost dropped the phone. The message was bold—nothing like me. But imagining him reading it at a conference table made my heart slam against my ribs. I wanted to get more of a reaction out of him.
His reply came almost instantly.
"And then?"
"Hold my waist. Spank me hard. Never let me turn around."
My fingertips tingled against the screen. This man always dragged out a side of me I didn't recognize.
"Good."
"I'll spank that fat ass until it's swollen. You won't be able to wear panties for two days."
Heat shot down my spine. I could almost picture him narrowing those steel-gray eyes as he typed.
"What are you wearing underneath?"
I thought of the matching red lace set I'd put on this morning, and my breathing quickened.
"Come back and see for yourself. It's a surprise." I bit my lip.
The screen lit up again quickly.
"Take off your clothes. Be a good girl and wait for me in that damn surprise."
I squeezed my thighs together as shame and anticipation crashed through me. But I wasn't backing down.
I was about to type something even more outrageous when the office door suddenly swung open.
I looked up. A woman stood in the doorway—ageless. She was beautiful. Tall and slender, skin almost translucently pale. Smooth flaxen hair fell past her shoulders. Her cornflower-blue eyes looked liquid enough to drown in.
"I'm here to see Varlam." Her voice was as delicate as she was, but that familiar use of his first name stabbed at me.
"Mr. Petrov isn't in the office today." I set down my phone and slipped back into assistant mode. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
"Then you can leave your name and contact information. I'll pass it along."
"I don't need an appointment." She said it calmly. "Just tell him Miss Vasilieva is here."
The name didn't ring any bells. I searched through all the lists Varlam had given me. Nothing matched.
I wanted to say no, but her matter-of-fact expression stopped me. Occasionally, special guests came to see Varlam without appointments—people he'd always make time for. But those people were all burly, dangerous-looking men. Not this.
"One moment." I picked up the desk phone and dialed Varlam's number.
He answered after two rings.
"There's a woman here to see you. No appointment."
"Name."
"Miss Vasilieva."
Sudden silence on the other end. Just two seconds, but I heard my own heartbeat thicken in my eardrums.
"Who?" His voice changed.
Like a nerve buried too long had been touched, tightening even his breathing.
I looked at the woman. She stood quietly by my desk, lips curved in a faint smile.
"Miss Vasilieva," I repeated.
"Tell her to wait." A chair scraped the floor on his end, followed by rapid footsteps. "I'm on my way."
"Varlam, you—"
The line went dead. I held the receiver against my ear, frozen for a few seconds.
"He'll be here soon." The woman looked at me, voice certain. "He always has been."
I didn't answer. The way she said it—like she was sharing a secret between her and Varlam—sent an ominous twist through my chest.
I pulled out my phone and texted him. No response.
"Who is she?"
I sent another. "What's going on?"
Still nothing.
All those messages that had made me blush sat above these two ignored questions, and suddenly they looked pathetic.
I told myself he was probably driving, probably just didn't have time to check his phone. But he had a driver. And Varlam never let anything disrupt his rhythm.
Less than twenty minutes later, rapid footsteps echoed down the hall. Varlam appeared in the doorway.
His tie was crooked. His usually perfect silver-gray hair was disheveled.
His chest rose and fell visibly beneath his shirt—like he hadn't stopped once.
This rushed, unkempt version of him told the story of his urgency.
I'd never seen him like this. The man who was always composed, who always made others wait, couldn't even catch his breath.
The moment he entered, his gaze locked on the woman. He didn't look at me at all. The woman's eyes reddened the instant she saw him.
"Varlam—" She walked toward him.
Varlam opened his arms and caught her naturally, like his body already knew what to do. The woman melted into his embrace, face buried against his chest.
"You're finally here." Her voice trembled. "I thought you wouldn't want to see me."
The contradiction between her words barely registered. I stared at Varlam carefully holding her, my eyes stinging.
"I will always want to see you." Varlam soothed her softly. "The second I heard you were back, I walked out of my meeting."
The woman lifted her face. Tears had already slid down her cheeks. Varlam wiped them away gently, afraid of hurting her.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
"Because it's been too long." More tears spilled. "I missed you."
The scene made my stomach sink. My breathing wouldn't settle. Varlam's eyes held a patience I'd never received. Like he'd give anything to make her happy.
The woman finally seemed to remember there was a third person in the room. She glanced at me, then looked away.
"Can I talk to you alone?" She looked up at Varlam, wiping her eyes. "Just us."
Varlam finally looked at me.
Not long ago, he'd been texting me about how he wanted to touch me. I'd even imagined how he'd kiss me when he got back, how he'd press me against this desk. Now his gaze was flat. Like all our intimacy these past days had been fake.
"Get out." No hesitation.
I didn't move—my brain suddenly couldn't process language.
"What?"
His brow furrowed.
"Briony, get out." He barked. "Now."
The sound slammed into my chest. I flinched. His eyes were terrifying—like if I didn't obey, he'd kill me. I ran on instinct. I made it around the corner before I stopped, back against the wall, palms marked with deep nail crescents.
Briony, calm down! Why are you running? You should demand answers—who is this woman, what is she to him?
The thought pulled me together. Yes. I had the right to ask. Maybe we'd never officially said we were together, but he'd called me his woman in front of everyone at that party. He'd come to me in the middle of the night, stayed in my bed, touched me in this office in ways only lovers do.
I shouldn't be standing here like some dismissed employee.
I took a deep breath and forced down the burning in my lungs.
Then I walked back. But just as I reached the office door, it swung open from inside.
The woman had her arm looped through Varlam's.
Her eyes were still swollen, but her face glowed with sweet, blissful happiness.
Even Varlam's usually straight mouth curved slightly upward.
The sharp image sliced through my throat. For a moment I couldn't speak at all.
The woman saw me but looked right through me. And Varlam genuinely didn't see me—his eyes only had room for her.
"Dad wants to see you too." The woman tilted her head toward him. "You have no idea how much he's been nagging. He kept pushing me to come back."
"I can go with you right now to visit him." His gaze was indulgent.
I didn't have the sense to step aside. Instead, I stood in front of them, fists clenched.
"Varlam." My voice shook more than I'd expected. "What the hell is this? You two—"
"Get back to work." Varlam finally spared me a glance, but he didn't answer my question.
Those few words felt like ice water dumped over my head.
"But—"
"This isn't your business." He cut me off, voice cold.
The rest of my words stuck in my throat.
"Excuse us. We have more important things to handle." The woman looked at me with pity.
More important things? Meeting her father? And then maybe they'd discuss their future together? I stumbled aside in a daze.
The second I made room, Varlam walked toward the elevator with the woman. All I could do was watch their matched, intimate silhouettes.
"Do you remember that street where I lived abroad? Last month I got on the wrong bus there and ended up on the other side of the city." The woman's tone was light.
"You always took the wrong bus." Varlam laughed. "You loved experiencing the local culture but kept getting lost."
She laughed too.
"You actually remember!" Her voice rose in surprise. "I thought..."
They moved farther away. I couldn't hear anymore. Pain climbed up my ribs, inch by inch.
This didn't even count as betrayal. Betrayal required promises, and Varlam had never promised me anything. We'd never said the words. There was only the tenderness I'd assigned meaning to on my own.
This wasn't the first time I'd been weighed on someone's emotional scale. Makar and Chloe had already taught me—men could swap who they held overnight.
But this hurt worse. With Makar, I could hate him clearly. Varlam had just given me enough warmth that I'd chosen to fall in. This was my mistake. I couldn't even find someone to blame.
I should be grateful I'd seen this relationship for what it was in time. Go back to my desk, finish reviewing contracts, get today's work done, then go home and have dinner with Rory. My life was full of too many details to waste space on a man who could leave at any moment.
I told myself this, over and over. But my vision still blurred.
I didn't know who that woman was. But I knew one thing clearly—she'd come to take Varlam away.