This entire conversation was getting to me.

“May I go home?” I asked.

As I asked, I knew it was incredibly rude of me, but I needed to get away from here. I had to have a break and leave. The thought of staying here, well, I needed distance from the women, from Slavik, from duty.

Gazes turned from me to Ivan, and he nodded. “Of course, my dear.”

Slavik clicked his fingers, signaling Sergei, but Ivan tutted. “No, your wife is clearly feeling unwell. We’ll talk another time. Go with her.”

Ivan’s word was law.

So, together, we stood. I made my escape toward the exit. Sergei already had my coat, which I took, grateful.

Slavik came back and held out a small white card.

“Amanda said you needed to organize a lunch together.”

I stared at the card for several seconds before I reached out to grab it. Without question, I tore it up and threw it in the trash. I wasn’t going to make friends with people who talked behind my back like that. All my life I’d been alone, and I could continue to be so.

Wrapping my arms around my body, I stood outside, waiting for the car. Slavik stood beside me. He was so much taller than me. Muscular as well. From the glimpse I’d gotten of him on my wedding night, I knew he was heavily inked, and he clearly worked out a lot.

I gritted my teeth as the car came into view. Sliding into the back seat, I tried to hug myself against the door, but I couldn’t get close enough. Slavik was too close.

He pressed a button that raised the partition, separating us from the driver. We now had privacy.

“Do you want to tell me what is going on?” he asked.

“Nothing is going on. I didn’t need you to take me home. I was happy going with Sergei.” I sank my nails into my palm as I stared out the window.

Slavik wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me close. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“And you’re starting to piss me off.”

Tears filled my eyes. He could so easily break my wrist. I stayed perfectly still.

“I just … I wanted to leave.”

“You think I didn’t see a difference after you’d gone to use the bathroom? What was said? They went after you but came out first? Are you hiding a pregnancy from me? Tell me.”

He spat out all these questions, and I struggled to keep up. I was terrified, scared.

“What? No. I’m not pregnant. And … I don’t want to have anything to do with the other women.” I didn’t want to tell him the reason why, but when he insisted, I had no choice but to tell him what I heard. I told him every single word.

Afterward, silence fell between us, and I realized he’d released my wrist. I pulled away from him, holding my wrist against me, protecting myself against him. He … frightened me. There was no other word for it, and now he heard my shame.