“Your bill, sir.”

Taking the leather folder from the waiter, Sergei handed it to Fredericka, smiling slyly. “Friends, right?”

She snatched the bill from him with a glare. “Cheapskate,” she muttered under her breath after reluctantly handing over her credit card.

But this only made the billionaire smile lazily. It had been two months since they had started going out as so-called friends, and if anything, his fascination over Fredericka Spears had only deepened, bordering on obsession.

In the past, watching his youngest brother react with possessive jealousy whenever he saw Seri in the company of another man had amused him to no end. He had chalked it down to Vassi always being the most volatile of them three and had privately thought that such a thing would never happen to him.

But fate proved him wrong, the billionaire mused, by sending a gray-eyed redhead to torment him.

When it was time to leave, he stood up first to pull her chair out for her, and Fredericka flashed him an embarrassed smile of thanks.

Practical yet feminine.

The words once again fleeted in his mind, a description that he now knew was perfectly apt. He liked how she was fiercely independent when it came to her work but without allowing it to overshadow her femininity. Most women he dated were either one or the other, career-driven or drunk on their vanity. Both types of women were only able to entertain him inside the bedroom, but outside they either bored or disgusted him.

“Are you heading back to the office after this?” Fredericka asked as they stepped out of the restaurant.

“No.” His brief answer had her glancing at him in bemusement, but even, so he refused to elaborate. She was better off not knowing the truth. Walking her to the parking lot, he smiled down at her, saying softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, da?”

Her obedient nod pleased him, and Sergei lowered his head, intending to place a friendly goodbye kiss on her cheek. But then he inhaled the sweet mild scent of her fragrance, and just like that white-hot desire laced his blood, arousal stirring his loins.

Blyad.

His lips touched one silky soft cheek and stayed there, lingering, every cell in his brain urging him to move his mouth until it covered hers.

“S-Sergei.”

Fredericka’s choked whisper forced him back to his senses, and he drew away reluctantly.

“You need to stop doing that,” she muttered.

“I can’t help it,” he answered in a deliberately light tone, knowing that it wasn’t the right time to let her know that he wasn’t joking. It was the truth, and it was why thirty minutes later he was in Madeline’s house, with the model bent over her dining table while the billionaire fucked her from behind.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Every gasp was punctuated by the slapping sounds of their thrusting bodies, with Sergei pounding hard into her. He was determined to fuck both of them out of their minds, just as he had been doing for the past two months.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he squeezed Madeline’s ass hard, all the while pretending it was Fredericka he was fucking.

He knew it was cruel and sick, knew it was dishonorable and deceitful, but he no longer gave a damn.

If this was the only way to make sure he kept his hands off Fredericka while he worked on winning her trust, then to hell with his honor.

To hell with everything.

He would do whatever it took to keep Fredericka in his life, would do everything to ensure that in the end she would be his alone.

After leaving her house, he called his secretary and gave her the usual instructions. By tonight, the model would receive yet another expensive piece of jewelry, which he knew Madeline would understand was both a thank-you gift as well as a reminder that theirs was purely a sexual relationship and that to expect anything from it would mean the end of their liaison.

Back in the office, Sergei’s executives immediately sat up as the company’s young vice president walked inside the conference room. Although it had only been a few years since he had started working full time in Grachyov Enterprises, Sergei had become infamous for his strict adherence to protocol. Executives that dared to show up with one strand of hair out of place were fined for being unprofessional while those who dared come in one minute late for any meeting were sent a sternly worded memo about attendance.

Today’s meeting involved a potential merger between Grachyov Enterprises and a European company, and the executives of both firms were quietly perspiring at the thought of having to present their arguments to the young Russian vice president.

It was a well-known fact that Sergei Grachyov was even more exacting than his father, and if the proposed merger was not to his liking---

Everyone gulped silently as the vice president stood up, a chilling look of disapproval his face. “The proposal has merit, but it significant lacks supporting data.” Looking at the people on the table one by one, he asked in a soft, silky voice, “Why is that, do you suppose? Did you not all have sufficient time to prepare for this meeting?”

The executive leading Grachyov Enterprises’ M&A team blanched. He was going to get sacked. He could feel it in his bones, and he wanted to cry.

“Did you think my time was for all of you to waste?”

I’m going to throw up, another executive thought sickly. His CEO had told him not to leave until he had Sergei Grachyov’s signature on the contract, and he had a bad feeling that was as likely as him dating the billionaire’s famously hot stepsister Seri Devereux.

“I’m waiting for an answer, gentlemen.”

The silence in the room was such that the ticking secondhand of the wall clock could actually be heard. Although no one was looking at each other, much less meet the billionaire’s gaze, everyone’s thoughts ran along the same lines.

If only they had more time to prepare the data that Sergei Grachyov was asking for.

If only.

But everyone knew that Sergei Grachyov didn’t do second chances, and so a miracle was the only way for this disaster to be averted. A miracle, coming in the form of---

Someone’s phone started to ring.

The executives simultaneously bowed their heads in horrified defeat. Goodbye, world. This was it: the perfectly bad ending for the worst day in their lives. Which idiot would be stupid enough to keep his phone switched on in a conference room with---

“What can I do for you, pchelka?”

Everyone’s heads jerked up, shock written all over their faces. Was this truly Sergei Grachyov, actually taking a phone call in the middle of a meeting?

They watched the billionaire’s lips curve, a sight so rare for the aloof Russian that everyone was struck dumb seeing it. “No, you’re not disturbing me.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped. This was even more of a bigger miracle than they thought! Not only had the billionaire, who was a notorious workaholic, answered a call during a meeting, but it was a personal one – what seemed like a booty call even – at that!

Sergei waved his executives and those of the other company away, gesturing to the door so that they would know he was giving them a break. “This is the first time you’ve called me of your own accord, pchelka. To what do I owe the honor of this pleasure?” As he spoke, he watched in puzzlement as everyone practically ran out of the conference room and started laughing and cheering outside, with one of the executives even falling to his knees, shouting hallelujah.

The noise seemed to have reached Fredericka as well as she asked, “Are you in a party?”

“No. I’m still at the office, but the people around me appear inordinately happy.”

“Must be because you’re the nicest boss ever,” Fredericka couldn’t help quipping.

“I am nice.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

He ignored that, saying, “What did you want to talk about?”

Silence.

“Shall I take a guess? You missed me perhaps?”

“Uhh, no.”

Liar, he thought. The way her voice had suddenly quivered was answer enough, and he chuckled, saying, “It’s alright, pchelka, I missed you, too.”

“That’s not it, I told you,” she insisted, and this time she did sound serious enough to make him frown.

“What is it then?”

“Mr. Fawkes sent for me earlier,” Fredericka shared uneasily. “He asked me questions about you.”

Sergei stiffened. “And?”

Fredericka started to babble. “In not so many words, he made it clear that if I’m not going to be your future wife, and when I obviously told him I’m not---”

The billionaire’s lips tightened.

“He gave me this disapproving look and told me I shouldn’t let you besmirch – that’s the exact word Mr. Fawkes used, Sergei. Besmirch.” Her voice started to rise. “He thinks spending time with you will have my professional reputation besmirched as well as the law firm’s, and don’t you think that’s such a stupid thing? Does he really think it’s impossible for a man and a woman to be just friends?”

Yes, Sergei thought. It was impossible, but he wouldn’t let her know that since the illusion of friendship between them was what allowed him to keep her close.

“That’s the problem with this place, it’s still stuck in the Middle Ages, and I’m beginning to wonder why I’m even working here---”

“Fredericka.” She fell silent at his quiet intrusion, and it finally dawned on her that she had gone off the rails in the past few minutes. “What exactly is the problem?”

“He thinks I’m your mistress, and he doesn’t want mistresses working for him.”

Ah. Sergei said calmly, “I will fix this.”

“No, no. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Your problems are due to my presence in your life, pchelka. Of course I must do something---”

“I’m already sorting it out on my own,” she cut him off in a rush. “I told him I’m dating Julian Alexeyev---”

The billionaire’s jaw clenched. “Is that so?”

“Anything to get him off my back,” Fredericka sighed.

Silence.

“Sergei?”

“You haven’t any need to go to such extent,” the billionaire said coldly. “You could have told him I was still dating Madeline Carter.”

“Oh.” The surprise in her voice was obvious, but so was the faint hurt underlining it, and his jaw clenched harder. What the hell had she expected, after telling him that she had used dating Julian Alexeyev as an excuse?

“Y-you’re still dating her?” The trembling note in her voice begged him to say no.

“Do you have a problem with it?” His hard tone demanded her to say yes so he could be done with all the lies.

Silence.

And then Fredericka answered woodenly, “I’m relieved.”