“In a manner of speaking,” I said with a shrug. “Is he new to the city?”

  “Yes and no,” she answered after a moment, seeming to consider her response before speaking. “He comes and goes at his leisure.”

  “For business?” I cursed my curiosity, but there was no calling back the question once it was out of my mouth.

  “And pleasure,” Mom commented casually, pasting on her dazzling smile as she nodded to someone who called her name. The woman lifted her glass of champagne as if to toast her, but neither paused to speak to the other.

  Meanwhile, I was back to overanalyzing, unsure if I liked that last answer. What the hell did that even mean? He came to New York for the club scene and amazing food at some of the world’s best restaurants? Or to whore around?

  And why did the latter possibility piss me off?

  Inhaling slowly, I steeled my emotions and refused to allow anyone to see what I was thinking or feeling as Mom and I walked back to where I’d left my father with Zak. We passed faceless people, all of them the same, just different names I’d never bothered to learn. Honestly, they were all boring, gossipy assholes with too much money to burn and not enough brain power to know how to use it to save the world.

  Dad and Zak were still standing in the same place, fresh drinks in their hands as they spoke like old friends. Pausing at the entrance with my mother, I took a moment to give Zak another once-over. I hadn’t considered his age earlier, but I had to put him at just under thirty, making him at least ten years older than me.

  The way he stood so confidently beside my father was beyond sexy. With the two men standing in front of each other, doing nothing but having a conversation, the room still exuded a dangerous kind of aura that sent many scurrying from the room moments after they entered it.

  “What else would you like to know?” Mom asked, giving me a sly, highly amused smirk when she noticed how I was looking at Zak.

  “Is this a setup?” I gritted out suspiciously. “Are you trying to get me to hook up with him?”

  The smirk disappeared. “Sweetheart, of course not. But after meeting Zak, I knew you two would be perfect for each other. With some convincing, your father came to agree. And from the vibes I’m getting zapped with by you simply looking at him across the room, I know I was right.”

  Stubbornly, I hiked up my chin to glare down at her. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that Dad does business with him? You’re not trying to join two powerful families or some archaic bullshit, are you?”

  She rolled her brown eyes at me. “Arranged marriages went out of fashion a long time ago, Sofia. I mean, sure, it still happens, even in this day and age. But I would never allow that to happen to you. I just suggested to Adrian that the two of you meet, and if things happened organically, then great. If not, I had no plans to push either of you toward a relationship.”

  The amusement returned to her beautiful face as several people passed us, their attention ensnared by the Ural necklace. I wanted to yell at them to stop looking at my emerald, but I chose to lock my jaw and keep my mouth shut as my mother spoke. “Though, I can feel the heat of his gaze on you from here. And from the goose bumps decorating your arms, it’s obvious there is chemistry for you both.”

  “But—” I broke off, rubbing at my arms in an attempt to erase the evidence of my body’s reaction to Zak.

  “It was instantaneous for your father and me, too,” she confided in her quiet, gentle voice. “But we had obstacles in our way that kept us apart for…a while. I didn’t want anything like that for you, should you become interested in Morozov. I had a full background check done on the man—”

  “Of course you did,” I muttered, unsurprised.

  She went on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “And as far as we can tell, there is nothing and no one to stand in your way should you want to pursue your interest in him.”

  “Goody for me,” I grumbled, glaring at her. “Okay, so maybe, just maybe, there was chemistry between us earlier. But that was then. I could as easily have had the same reaction to twenty different guys. It was fleeting. There one minute, gone the next. Much like every other man in the world.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, her lips tilting upward knowingly. “Then again, maybe not.”

  “Whatever. The point is, I don’t want to explore it,” I informed her, not completely sure if I was lying or not.

  Mom’s eyes narrowed on me. “May I ask why?”

  “Just because,” I told her obstinately. “And I’m asking you—no, Mother, scratch that. I’m telling you, here and now, stay out of it.”

  Sofia

  The worst part of the night was when we had to sit down to dinner, while some comedian entertained us in between announcing the winners for each bid. Each table held ten people comfortably, with forty tables total. Four hundred people, at five grand per ticket—that alone was two million dollars for the charity before the auction even began.

  I was surrounded by my parents, three other couples, and, not surprisingly, Zak—who was seated directly across from me, in the middle of two of the obvious trophy wives. Between the two of them, they were wearing enough diamonds to cover the two mil that had already been raised for the women’s shelters. Their black dresses showcased the tits their sugar-daddy husbands had no doubt gifted them upon first sucking their microdicks, and they flaunted their assets at Zak every chance they got. Along with coy looks that set my teeth on edge.

  Slicing my knife through my perfectly cooked medium steak, I imagined slicing off the plastic surgeons’ handiwork, maybe popping their silicone bags. But then I reasoned that they would have gone for the gummy bear texture to make their boobs look and feel more natural. Which they would have achieved, if they had only stopped at a C cup instead of splurging on the double D’s to please their money-bag husbands.

  I fought a giggle at the thought of the gelatin-like mixture in their chests spilling out onto the table and their idiot husbands gobbling it up like dessert, because they were just that obsessed with the gold diggers who had ensnared them with what the old geezers considered the fountain of youth—twenty-year-old pussy.

  “And the winning bid for the Ural necklace—”

  My fork and knife stilled on the plate, mid-slice. Lifting my head, I held my breath as the comedian paused for annoyingly dramatic effect, and I debated throwing my steak knife at his face.

  “Zakhar Morozov!” the man exclaimed.

  Even over the expected claps of congratulations on winning the bid, I heard the two women on either side of Zak gasp at the amount of the bid. Holy shit. It was nearly twice what the tickets had brought in. My mother gave a happy little cheer, thanking Zak profusely.

  As soon as his name had left the comedian’s mouth, I sought Zak out, only to find his golden orbs locked on me. His expression was unreadable, but something in my gut told me he was waiting for my reaction.

  Taking my time, I lifted my cloth napkin and dabbed at my mouth before dropping it back onto my lap and giving him the kind of slow clap that many would consider insulting. I forced a smile to my lips, more annoyed with myself for not knowing how to react to this man winning the bid on his own necklace.

  Why donate the damned thing if he was just going to participate in the auction for it?

  What I hated even more was that I was thankful one of the nameless idiots hadn’t won the beautiful necklace. The idea alone of one of the trophy wives wearing my necklace made me want to gag.

  Fuck. I had to stop thinking of it as mine. It wasn’t at the beginning of the night, and it sure as hell wasn’t now that Zak had won the auction for it.

  A skinny man in a suit appeared at Zak’s side, a leather-bound folder and pen in hand. Opening the folder, he offered the pen to Zak, who lowered his gaze from mine long enough to scribble his signature on the document. Thrusting the pen back at the man in the suit, he lifted his eyes back to me, the barest ghost of a smile teasing at the corners of his kissable lips.

  Rolling my eyes at both myself and him, I picked up my utensils once more and finished cutting a bite of steak.

  “To spend so much on a single piece of jewelry, you must be planning on gifting it to someone special,” the trophy wife to Zak’s right cooed.

  My dad and I shared a look, both of us trying not to burst out laughing. To stop himself, he tossed back the rest of the contents of his wineglass then reached for my mom’s untouched glass.

  The two wives gushed back and forth, while their clueless husbands talked shop over their heads. On stage, the comedian had moved on to the next auction item. I pretended to enjoy my dinner, but I barely tasted it. In my head, I plotted out how I would shut the two women up, but cutting out their tongues was a fantasy that would never reach fruition.

  Two armed men, each with a hand on a small case, appeared at the table, causing all conversation to cease even as the comedian continued with his jokes and announcing the winners of other items. Curious, I picked up my water goblet and sipped.

  Zak stood and took the case from the two men. Placing it in his seat, he crouched down to open it and then pulled something from inside.

  The Ural necklace.

  I quickly placed my water glass on the table. A voice in the back of my head started shouting for me to excuse myself, get the hell out of there, before I made a fool of myself. But then Zak straightened, holding the necklace reverently as he walked around the table.

  My heart stopped when he paused right behind me. The coolness of the diamonds felt good on my skin, but it was the weight of the emerald as it settled perfectly above the tops of my breasts that made me shiver. Zak deftly fastened the clasp, stroking his thumbs over my shoulders and causing my breath to hiss through my teeth as my entire body tightened at the caress.

  Fingers shaking, I lifted my hand to touch the emerald, while something shifted internally. Just from looking at the necklace, I’d known it belonged to me. But having it around my neck, I felt as if the gems had finally found their rightful place.

  A lump filled my throat, this time with pure joy.

  Zak lowered his head and pressed his lips to my ear. “You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman in this room,” he breathed. Every fine hair on my body lifted, wanting to make contact with him, to ease the ache that was throbbing through my entire body at his nearness. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more so, but I was wrong. This necklace was made for you, dragotsennyy.”

  The knot in my throat made it impossible to speak, and even if I could have, I didn’t know what I would have said to him. “Thank you” didn’t seem enough. I had no words that could show my appreciation for the gift—if that was even what this was.

  Suspicion quickly replaced my joy, and I nearly tore the necklace from my throat. But I refused to embarrass my mother by making a scene. Instead, I pasted on a smile, discreetly cleared my throat of the emotion threatening to choke me, and looked up at the man who very well may have been playing me.

  “Thank you, Mr. Morozov,” I said, just loud enough for those at our table and nearby to hear. “It’s an honor to get to wear this tonight, and I’ll be sure to return it to you before the end of the evening.”

  Fire flickered in his golden depths, but before he could speak, one of the trophy wives opened her mouth. “I would love to be the next in line to wear it for a night,” she said with a wink that her husband was too busy talking business to the man across from him to see.

  “It already has a permanent home,” Zak informed her, a bite in his voice for the first time all evening. “It is far too graceful around Sofia’s neck to belong anywhere else.”

  The trophy wife pouted, and I tried not to roll my eyes, not only at the woman but at what Zak said. Did he think I was stupid? He couldn’t buy me, not even with the most beautiful necklace I’d ever set eyes on. If this guy wanted me—and I would have been lying if I said I didn’t want him to—then he had to earn me.

  But not with material things.

  I wanted a man to want and love me the way my dad did my mom. How my zio Cristiano did Tetka. Fuck, the way Ben Davis, the sheriff back in Creswell Springs, loved and cherished his wife, Lexa. That was what I wanted, what I’d come to yearn for.

  Spending four million dollars on a necklace and then placing it around my neck in front of hundreds of people didn’t feel like Zak cared for me at all. If anything, it seemed as if he was placing a collar on me, announcing his ownership to the world.

  But he was about to learn that no one could fucking own me.

  Wiping my mouth with my napkin once again, I stood. “Mom, Dad, I’m not feeling well.”

  More like I was feeling homicidal and didn’t want to turn the dinner portion of the charity event into a murder mystery. One which everyone would win because they would witness me repeatedly stabbing my steak knife into Zak Morozov’s neck until he bled out on the floor at my feet.

  I stepped away from the table and the potential murder weapon I was envisioning using on the man still standing too damn close to me. “Congrats on raising so much for the shelters, Mom,” I murmured as I bent to kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Amusement darkened her brown eyes. “I hope you feel better soon, sweetheart. Get some rest, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

  Nodding, I gave the others at the table a tight smile, before turning on my red heels and walking away. I barely cleared the huge dining room before a hand caught hold of my elbow. The reaction my body had to the firm touch told me exactly who it was, but I didn’t stop. It didn’t seem to matter to Zak, however, because he fell into step right beside me.

  Neither of us spoke until we were outside. I pulled out my phone to alert the limo driver, but before I could hit send, Zak snatched my phone from my hand. “Hey!” I tried to grab it back, but he quickly put it in his pants pocket. “Why are you being such an asshole?”

  “When was I an asshole to you?” His confusion made his slight accent even more noticeable.

  I didn’t know if his obliviousness was annoying or amusing, which made a frustrated sound leave my throat. “I am not the type of girl you slap a collar on and then lead around like some little lost puppy you now want to sit prettily at your feet.” Reaching behind me, I struggled, but I got the clasp undone. It felt wrong not to have it around my neck, but I refused to let something so beautiful—or anything else, for that matter—be a symbol of this man’s ownership of me. “Here. Take this back.”

  He glared down at the necklace hanging from my fingertips. “It belongs to you, dragotsennyy. It should have been around your neck from the moment it was crafted.”

  Damn his accent for making him ten times hotter. Damn him for being so fucking beautiful all I wanted to do was stare at him. And damn me for not being able to turn off whatever emotions he was stirring up inside me.

  “It feels more like a dog collar that you put around my neck in front of all of those people. Staking a claim you have no right to.” I thrust the necklace against his chest. “I’m no dog, and I sure as fuck am not yours.” When he didn’t reach up to take hold of the piece of jewelry, I simply let go, letting it fall to the ground at our feet.

  My heart cried out in distress that my beautiful emerald had touched the dirty sidewalk, but I locked that down and took a step back. “I’d say it was nice meeting you, Mr. Morozov, but that would only make me a liar.”

  “Why do you suddenly dislike me?” he demanded, grabbing my wrist to keep me from turning away from him. I clenched my jaw, and he jerked me against him, ignoring the millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds and emeralds on the ground. “Answer me, Sofia. I thought we had a connection when we first met tonight. But then you just shut down on me. Please, tell me what I did to cause this strain between us. I don’t like it. I want to see you smile at me again.”

  If I told him the truth, he would probably think I was insane. Fuck, I thought I was insane. He was right about the instant connection we’d had, but then I’d learned he was the one to donate the Ural necklace, and it had felt like he’d betrayed me. Which was crazy. And then, while I was still analyzing my feelings on that, he’d spent the night between the two trophy wives, who had done nothing but flirt and eye-fuck him during dinner.

  My feelings of betrayal had mixed with jealousy and formed something explosive that had yet to detonate. I was trying to defuse the bomb within myself, but he wasn’t helping. Putting the necklace I’d fallen in love with at first sight around my neck should have eased the hurt I’d felt. Instead, it had only made things worse because the betrayal and jealousy were suddenly combined with feeling insulted.

  The girl who pouted and threw tantrums when she didn’t get her way was long gone. I didn’t want to turn back into her again. But this new version of me felt unstable, and it was all Zak’s fault.

  I was seriously losing my mind, and I needed to get away from this man before it all erupted and I couldn’t control the destruction that would follow.

  Zak

  Without taking my gaze off Sofia as she walked toward where the Volkov limo was waiting after one of her guards had spotted her, I bent and picked up the necklace she’d dropped.

  I thought I’d met the most stubborn women in the world, but Sofia more than topped the charts for that particular category. Considering who her biological mother and grandmother were, I couldn’t say I was surprised, but damn. She was both of those women combined and then some.

  Cursing Oleksandr Davydov, I carefully tucked the necklace into the jacket pocket of my tux and marched after my wayward little princess. There was no way in hell I was going to let her slip through my fingers when I’d already spent so many months making nice with her adoptive family just for the chance to meet her.

  Oleks and Olena had only just found out about their granddaughter’s existence, thanks to Yulia having finally confessed to giving birth and then putting the child up for adoption when she was supposed to be studying at university nineteen years ago. I wasn’t privy to the full details of my honorary sister’s reasoning for not keeping her baby daughter, but knowing her father as I did, I could take a guess.