Page 32 of Avenging Azalea

V: What about this one?

T: What are you trying to sell?

It was a stupid question. I knew what she was doing, and most men would’ve been game, but not me. Vera was beautiful, but my heart remained quiet, and so did my cock.

V: Seriously? That was not the response I was expecting.

If only destroying my phone could erase this entire fiasco, but there was no one to blame but myself. That was the worst part.

T: I’m working. I don’t have time for this right now.

V: Okay. I leave for London next week. When do you want to get together?

Vera was in the process of opening another division of her fashion house in the UK, specifically in London, and she was traveling to oversee the start-up. She would be gone for three weeks, which meant that I’d be free from bullshit like this happening for twenty-one whole days.

T: Unfortunately, my schedule is packed. We’ll have to wait until you return to discuss wedding plans.

V: You sure you don’t want to come? London is amazing, and there will be so many parties and social engagements to attend.

Kill me now.

T: I just told you that I’m extremely busy. How would I find time for all of that?

V: You can bring your laptop, and you’ll have lots of time to yourself during the day. We can explore and get to know one another better in the evenings.

Don’t ask a question when you don’t want an answer.

Everything Vera said sounded reasonable. In fact, it made sense. We were two people forced to marry and spend the rest of our lives together. Something like this would really help a relationship. But I wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. I’d been the reasonable Mikhailov my entire life, and right now, all I wanted to do was get out of this fucking engagement without a war erupting between our families.

T: It does sound like fun, but I really can’t. Maybe another trip.

V: Fine. Will you always be like this?

T: What does that mean?

My back immediately bristled, but not because she was wrong. I knew that I was being difficult and didn’t want to be called out on it.

V: Never mind, I’ll reach out when I get back. Oh, and my father wants you to call him. Here is his number: 555-525-7759

T: And he asked you to be the messenger?

V: No. I offered, thinking we could have a nice conversation and get to know one another. How stupid was that?

My thumbs hovered over the keys with a million nasty things I could say back, but every single one of them made me sound like my father. Specifically the way he treated my mother. I hated that there was a piece of me, no matter how small, that would jump at being cruel or controlling if it suited me. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.

T: Okay, I’ll call him. Thanks for letting me know.

Vera didn’t respond, and I couldn’t blame her. This marriage was off to a rocky start, and once more, all it took was a look in the mirror to know who was at fault. I stared at her father’s number for a moment, and then I set the phone aside. I wasn’t in the mood for anything else Vilanova. Not today, maybe not ever.

Chapter

Eleven

TITUS

THREE DAYS LATER

Too much silence, too many thoughts, and none of it used for anything productive. I’d never realized just how quiet this house was until now. Sitting in the kitchen, staring into my coffee—heavily spiked with Irish Cream—I hoped that it would give me answers to the questions floating around in my brain. But, so far…no such luck.