The Master (The Game Maker 2)

"I told you never to deceive me! I've revealed why I will never tolerate it. Yet you keep doing it."

"When? Name an instance!"

"I nearly believed you when you told me you had no other man! You met my gaze and assured me you didn't--yet you told your friend that you were involved with another."

"What friend?" Had he misunderstood something I'd said over the weekend?

"Last week, I bugged the penthouse for my meetings. I quite enjoyed your conversation with Ivanna."

I gasped, reflecting over what I'd said. I'd talked to her about the belt, about walking around in this lust-fueled haze, fantasizing about his body. That conversation had been private--and humiliating! My face flushed with embarrassment, which just made me angrier.

"Did you think I wasn't aware a phone got to you? I allowed it in. Later that night, I listened to the recording."

"Then you knew I never tried to trap you with a pregnancy! And you didn't tell me? Just like I thought! You wanted to keep me there--to keep treating me like a deceitful prostitutka! So you could do whatever you wanted with me. You amused yourself with me. You played with me. With my life."

We pulled up to the hotel. Vasili hurried out of the car around to the door, but then he just stood there.

"Just like you played me!" Sevastyan snapped. "You made me believe you felt something for me. So I decided I would win you from him--I would spoil you, immersing you in my world, while removing you from his. I thought I'd had success until your reactions last night. Now I know that I can't simply will this to happen. Your heart's taken. By Edward. You're in love with him."

I could feel the blood leaving my face. Sevastyan had said Edward's name out loud. I had the impulse to cross myself. "H-how?"

"On the plane, you said his name in your sleep! Moaned it!" He knocked back another vodka. "I now know what you sound like when you fuck the man you actually do give a damn about."

Had I said anything else? The need to run overpowered me. My gaze flitted to the door handle.

"Even before the recording confirmed it, I knew you had another. I knew every time you stared off at nothing that you were thinking of him. When you took that goddamned picture for the escort site, you were thinking of him."

Sevastyan was right. I had been.

"When you were with me--you fucking moaned for him." He was about to shatter his glass. "But then you warned me all along, didn't you? You told me I wanted you more than you wanted me."

He inhaled, as if to rein in his rage. "All of this is moot. I don't have to trust you or win you. I merely have to pay you. Shouldn't we settle accounts before you come up?"

"Don't do this." He was breaking my heart.

"Do what? Will a 'donation' of fifteen thousand a day suffice? Or twenty?" He popped open his briefcase, revealing stacks of wrapped hundreds. With a snide look, he said, "Perhaps Edward is expecting you to return flush with cash? Do you two have that kind of arrangement?"

Some invisible force was punching me in the stomach, like a fist. It had to be, because I couldn't breathe.

"Come now, ask me for your payment, little girl."

When I thought about how close I'd come to revealing to him all my secrets--breaking the rules that kept me alive--I grew queasy. I hadn't learned the lessons I'd paid so dearly for. "I was planning to tell you everything today, to trust you! Gracias a Dios, you showed your true colors--yet again--before I could say anything. You're the only one here who's betraying trust! Go back and review your creepy tapes. I--never--lied."

Shaking with fury to match his own, I took off my string of pearls and threw it at Sevastyan. "You don't want me more than you want your old ways. You aren't ready to cast them aside for me. So I've got no time for you. I'm leaving, and this time you won't stop me."

In a bored tone, he said, "Enough with the theatrics. You won't leave."

"Oh, I won't?" I nearly ripped my earlobes to get the earrings out. "You are always so wrong about me. Do you know why? Because you have never given me the benefit of the doubt. Not from the first minute I met you. You always expect the worst of me. ALWAYS." I threw the earrings and almost flung my purse at him but somehow had the presence of mind to stop myself. I'd need what was left of that pin money to get a cab back to my apartment.

I would use the seven grand in my safe and get out of town, as I'd always planned. After my exam tomorrow, I'd take the first bus heading west. I'd put this man behind me--just as I had my husband. I reached for the door.

My leaving seemed to baffle him. "All you have to do is ask for your gifts. Hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth. No escort would walk away from that."

As I exited the car, I said, "Watch me, cabron."

"Fucking ask me, Katya, and they'll be yours." Just like that first night, he kept talking, still engaging me. "Or is your pride going to get in the way?"

I glared at Vasili standing next to the car, then leaned down to tell Sevastyan, "You have no idea about my pride, Russian. It burns so bright, I hope it fucking blinds you." I slammed the door and strode away. With each step my shoulders went back, my chin up.

Going forward? Rule number seven would be never to fall in love.

CHAPTER 34

On the long ride home, I hardly registered the glaring sun, the swaying palm trees, the warmth after Nebraska.

The second I'd gotten into the cab, I'd taken out my phone and stared at the screen, wondering if he would contact me. To kill time, I'd sent Ivanna a voice message and then a text. I needed to tell her good-bye anyway.

That had been a while ago--strange that she hadn't tried to call. Shouldn't she be dying for scoop?

What would I tell her about Sevastyan? Was I making the right decision with him?

During my time at the hotel, I'd worried that I would grow used to hooded blue eyes and mind-blowing sex, and my infatuation with him would spiral out of control.

Check. Check. Check.

I might put Sevastyan behind me, but I was never going to get over him. Though I'd easily shed my regard for Edward, it wouldn't happen with Maxim. With a sinking feeling in my belly, I recognized that I was always going to love him.

Me jodi. I was so screwed.

Was I ready to write him off totally? How would I feel if he'd groaned another woman's name in sleep?

Now that I'd had some time to cool off, I wasn't as outraged about him playing me. He'd never lied to me per se, and he had started treating me better after eavesdropping on my conversation. He'd tried to win me.

But nothing could excuse how callously he'd treated me today. I merely have to pay you. Clearly, he hadn't gotten over the fact that I was an escort.

As I closed in on my dismal neighborhood, my need for survival rose to the fore, drowning out my spiraling emotions. I never would have taken Sevastyan's gifts (not even my red scarf), but I shouldn't have left my ten grand in the closet. Mierda!

Wait, Anthony still owed me! I pulled up his number and rang him. An assistant put me straight through.

"Cat! Great to hear from you!"

"Hey." We'd never actually spoken, even in the midst of his selling me to Sevastyan. "I need to come by and get the money I earned."

"What money, darling?"

Was he joking? "For all my outcall hours. Plus the twenty-five hundred I'm due for my phone number."

"Oh, honey, I've already invested it for you! Got you lined up with a photographer! A legit one. He'll make you look like a million dollars."

It is not a problem. "Anthony, you can get my pay back, a quick refund. I need it now."

"No can do. But if you're short of dough, I've got a French millionaire in town who loves Latinas. He's a huge tipper. A shade raunchy, but he pays for his raunchy ways, you know what I mean--"

"You son of a bitch! Get my money back!"

His voice dropped. "You better be nice to Uncle Anthony, girl. Especially since the Russian's well ran dry. At least for you."

"What are you talking about?" He couldn't know Sevastyan and I were over.

"He just got done scheduling someone else."

"Wh-what?"

"Five minutes ago. He booked the one he'd wanted in the first place."

Ivanna. Stunning, glamorous, sensual Ivanna. Who ticked every one of Sevastyan's boxes.

"The Russian was as determined to have her as he'd been with you. He's definitely through with you, darling."

I didn't know whether to scream--or cry. Sevastyan had gone back to his old ways, the PhD was at it again. Former hobbyist, my ass!

Did I believe he had felt something for me? In his own way, yes. He'd probably requested Ivanna just to hurt me, or to amuse himself at my expense. He was still scheming and coldhearted! Fuck him!

Oh, wait, that was Ivanna's job. No wonder she hadn't called me back. Would he stick to the script with her? Or would they enjoy the pool and champagne?

Anthony said, "So let's talk about the French guy--"

Without another word, I hung up the phone. That invisible fist had returned, punching me even harder. I doubled over, gasping to the cabbie, "Stop here."

Anthony called back. Then he texted about that date. And again! He thought he had the right to burn up my line? The asshole was using my dire straits to lure me deeper into hooking!

As the cab rolled to a stop, I glared at my still buzzing phone. It'd been in Sevastyan's possession for over a week. Business of information? He'd probably placed some kind of tracker in it.