Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

“I just want you to be happy, Ruthie. That’s all any parent wants for their child.”

“I don’t understand what happened.”

“Well, I suppose I didn’t do a very good job explaining this when you were a little girl, so I’ll try again.” He took a deep breath. “When a man and a woman love each other very much—”

“Dad.” I couldn’t help another splutter of laughter. “You’re being ridiculous. That wasn’t what I was talking about. I know how that happened.”

“And that’s all I’ll ever want to hear about it,” he said. “It’s good to hear you smile.”

“You can’t see me. You don’t know I’m smiling.”

“Trust me. I know.” He hesitated. “It’s something you’ll figure out, you know, if you decide to have the baby.”

“I’m still thinking about that.”

“You have every right to,” my dad said. “But I want you to understand how I know Maxim Volkov.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said, remembering all of the short conversations and grumpiness my dad had displayed every time I would obsess over Maxim — back before I ever knew him. “It’s in the past.”

“It was, but now it’s carried over to the present. Your present. And you don’t deserve that.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I knew Maxim from when I was working in Europe. He was young and hungry in so many ways that I took him under

my wing. But the more I got to know him, the more afraid I was of how relentless he was. He had a great drive in him, but unless it was used for good, it could’ve really been bad for the industry. For the world. And now, for you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” my dad said quietly. “I betrayed him — sold him out, and sold our designs to competitors. All because I’d rather end his chances in the business than take a chance on him and try to help him figure out the right way to be. Whatever meanness and ruthlessness is still in him — I’m afraid that’s me. I put that there.”

“What was he like when he was young?” I found myself asking. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say, but to tell the truth, I didn’t know what to say to that revelation. My dad had known Maxim Volkov all along and had never bothered to share any of that with me. The Ruth of the past who clipped photos of Maxim and taped them to her walls would have been offended. Now, though, I just didn’t know what to do or feel.

“He was so eager to prove himself,” my dad remembered. “Always too skinny. His kid brother tagged along with him everywhere — that kid got all the food. Maxim made sure of it. He had an incredible mind — incredible potential. And he was so desperate to make something out of himself that it was frightening. I gave up on him before I should’ve.”

I tried to imagine Maxim as underweight, underfed, and starving for all the things that life had denied him. It was difficult to separate the muscular Maxim I knew. No wonder he had been so angry at my dad for offering a helping hand and then shaking him off as soon as Maxim had something for himself. Still, I knew that scary little spark inside of Maxim that my dad had seen, too. It was what earned Maxim the “Wolf of the Web” moniker. That he was hungry enough to mow down anything and anyone who stood in the way of his success.

“Are you going to be okay, Ruthie?” my dad asked. “I’m here for you, no matter what you need. I could’ve been a better father to you, God knows it. But I’m doing all I can, here.”

“I love you, Dad,” I said, my heart aching. “Thanks. Things are … going to be fine. They’re not right now. But they’re going to get there.”

“That’s my girl,” he encouraged me. “You do what you need to do.”

“What if I do the wrong thing?”

“We all make mistakes, Ruthie. But if you believe in what you’re doing, you’re going to make the right decision — no matter what it might be.”

Lying there in the dark, I hoped he was right.

Seventeen

Maxim

It was time to end this.

I could admit my failings like a man, and I knew I had plenty to address if I ever wanted a chance with Ruth again.

My heart hurt at the sight of Gerald Miracle’s house, especially knowing how badly I’d hurt Ruth. This was just something I needed to do.

If he was surprised to see me when he opened the front door, he didn’t let on. He simply blew his cigar smoke in my face and leaned against the door frame. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Still smoking the same cigars?” I asked, feeling hoarse and strangely exhausted.