His Ward (7 page)

“Oh my God.” Tionne was going to be sick.

“Do you know what’s going on? If so, spill.” Ando rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Tell me everything. What did he do? Did he steal office supplies? Sell secrets to a rival company. What? What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Ando whined.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Right. That must have been one bad date,” Kristyn said a little snidely. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Tionne whipped around and glared at Kristyn. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Do with what?” Ando asked, looking between the two women. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Tionne slammed her mug down on the counter. “God, I’m going to kill him.”

“Kill who?” Ando demanded. “What am I missing?”

Tionne just shook her head as she made her way out of the room. Fury blinded her to everything and everyone around her. All she could think of was getting to Misha and wrapping her hands around his neck. He’d lied. He’d looked her in the eyes and lied. Never before had Tionne felt so angry. Or betrayed.

The elevator ride up to the top floor was the longest of her life, but she used the time to plot all the many ways she was going to murder, then dismember his body. By the time the door slid open, Tionne had come up with a grisly enough list of things to do to Misha that it would have made Stephen King proud.

She took a deep, calming breath as she stepped out of the elevator into the lavish outer office. Much to her delight there wasn’t a swarm of people about to witness the crime she planned on committing. Just Misha’s two personal guards who flanked the door to his office, one on either side, and Alba Colhan, Misha’s personal assistant.

The older Hispanic woman smiled bright when she saw Tionne. “Tionne, sweetheart, how are you?”

“Good, Alba,” Tionne lied through her smile. “How are you?”

“I’m doing just fine. What can I help you with today?”

Tionne wanted to say she could help Tionne dig a grave for Misha, but somehow she doubted that was in Alba’s job description. Although, with Misha, one never really knew. “I need to see your boss. Is he busy?”

“He’s in there alone, but”—Alba moved over to her computer and quickly began to type furiously on the keyboard—“he has a business call in twenty minutes. Want me to check if he can see you now?”

“Please,” Tionne said lightly. “That would be great.”

“Hold on one second.” Alba reached over, picked up the phone from its cradle, then pressed a button on the keypad. A few seconds later, she began to talk once more. “Misha, Tionne is here to see you. Do you have—” Whatever she was about to say was cut off midsentence, but she spoke again just a few seconds later. “Yes, sir.”

Alba placed the phone back into the receiver, then gestured to his door. “He’ll see you now. Keep in mind, though, he has that conference call.”

“I won’t keep him long,” Tionne promised before heading toward his door. It would take less than twenty minutes to kill him. When she reached his door, Darby opened it for her, then closed it behind her after she entered.

Misha was looking over some documents when she entered, but he spared her a quick courtesy glance up before returning his gaze back to the papers. “Missed me already?”

Tionne was not in the mood to be put on the back burner. She made her way to his desk, then around it so she was standing at his side. Furious, she reached down and snatched the documents from his hand and slammed them down on the desk. Misha jerked back in surprised and glanced up at her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Something on your mind, love?” he asked as he turned his chair around so he was facing her.

“Tell me it wasn’t you,” she demanded.

“It wasn’t me,” he parroted none too convincingly.

“You’re lying.”

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m just doing as you requested. Of course, since I have no idea what you’re talking about, it could very well be a lie. What didn’t I do?”

“Fire Troy.”

“Oh, that.” Misha leaned back in his chair and looked up at her with a bored expression on his handsome face.

“Yes, that.”

“In that case, it really wasn’t me.” Misha opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a remote control. He pointed it at a colorful Persian oil painting and clicked a button that caused the artwork to slide to the side to unveil a small bar he kept well stocked. “Would you like something?”

Startled, Tionne pulled back.
Had Ando been wrong after all?
“No.”

Misha made his way over to the bar and prepared himself a drink. “Is that all you wanted to know?” he asked with his back to her.

“So you’re saying you didn’t fire him.”

“Yes. I didn’t fire him.” Misha turned back and faced her. He eyed her over the crystal glass as he took a small drink of the amber ale.

“Really?”

“Really. He quit.”

Of course there was a catch. “Semantics.” Irritated, Tionne crossed her arms over her breasts. “Really, Misha? You’re going to try and win this argument on semantics.”

“I’m not trying to win anything,” he said, remaining stubbornly nonchalant. “I’m just answering your questions. I didn’t fire him. He quit.”

“And he just came to that conclusion all on his own.”

Misha shrugged. “I might have been the one to bring it up, but in the end he agreed it was best for both parties and his health if he sought employment elsewhere.”

Tionne didn’t believe that for a minute. “Was it before or after you hit him?”

He paused for a second and wrinkled his brow, as if he were seriously giving her question some thought. “After, I believe. I could be wrong, though.”

The blunt way he answered her question without a trace of compunction in his tone infuriated her. Tionne dropped her arms back to her sides and stared at him in disbelief. “Have you no shame?”

“I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of,” Misha said coolly. “In fact, I think I did the world a favor by explaining to him exactly what the word ‘no’ means, because the next woman he dates might not have family as understanding as I am.”

“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You promised, Misha.” Tionne couldn’t help the hurt that crept into her voice. “You promised, and then you went back on your word.”

He walked back over to where she was and set his drink on the desk. “I kept my word.”

“The hell you did.”

Misha went perfectly still. “Watch your language.”

That was the last straw. Deliberately, Tionne rose on her tiptoes so her face was closer to his own. “Fuck. You.” She enunciated the words and was rewarded by the instant look of fury that filled Misha’s eyes.

“This conversation is over.” His words were as cold as the look on his face, but Tionne refused to back down on this.

“The hell it is.” This wasn’t going to be over until she decided it was.

“You’re acting like a child,” he snapped, his legendary cool absent in the face of her rebellion.

She took several steps away from him and shook her head. “No, you’re treating me like one, and it ends now.”

Misha snorted. “Because this tantrum you’re throwing is the exact way to show me you’re an adult.”

“This is not a tantrum. This is me”—Tionne pointed to herself, then to him—“telling you how I feel, and, as usual, you’re not listening.”

“I assure you, I’ve heard every word you’ve said.”

“Then how could you go there after promising me you wouldn’t?”

“I never promised I wouldn’t handle things,” he said with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

“Yes, you did.” Had the entire world gone mad or just her half of it?

“No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t do it in your
father’s
name.”

“But you did.”

Misha shook his head. “No, I hurt him because I wanted to,” he said with far too much pleasure for her peace of mind. “It had nothing to do with your father.”

“Are you really going to split hairs about this?”

“I kept my word to you and took care of the situation all at the same time. I really don’t see what the problem is.”

Tionne stared at him blankly for several seconds. “Are you serious?”

“Utterly.”

“My personal life is not a situation you need to handle, Misha. I can take care of myself.”

“And is the other night proof of that?”

His dismissive words made her want to pick up the stapler on his desk and bang him in the head. “No, the other night is proof that you’ll do anything, say anything, to get what you want.”

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. “I would.”

“You admit it.”

“Of course I do.” He sounded disgusted that she would think otherwise. “You know me, Tionne. My moral compass doesn’t always point north. I didn’t lose any sleep over hitting him, and it was extremely satisfying to see him bleed. The truth of the matter is, he’s lucky I didn’t kill him for what he did to you because, trust me, I wanted to. Hell, I still do.”

“Are you crazy? He could have you arrested. He could sue you. He could—”

“Try,” he said with a cold smile. “I welcome it.”

Over the years, Tionne had heard countless stories about this side of Misha, but she’d never experienced it firsthand. And it left her not only dazed but also slightly scared. She knew he would never purposely hurt her, but realizing the ends to which he would go for her was a rude awakening. “Misha. You can’t fight my battles. God, this wasn’t even a battle. It was an accident.”

“One I assure you he’ll never have again.”
His mouth tightened, and his eyes clouded over with unsuppressed rage.

“You can’t do this.” Frustrated, she took a step closer. “You can’t just beat up anyone who’s mean to me.”

“Watch me,” he said, matching her step with one of his own until they were just inches part. “As long as I draw breath, I will go to any means, do anything to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

“Did I come at a bad time?”

The sound of Nicholi’s voice brought an end to their stare down, but not to their battle.

“Yes,” Misha said at the exact same moment Tionne said, “No.”

“Okay,” Nicholi said warily. “What’s going on?”

Tionne turned on him. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. That you weren’t Beavis to his Butthead.”

Nicholi’s eyebrows shot up. “I think I’ll come back so you two can finish talking.”

“No, really.” Tionne looked at Misha, who was as rigid as a statue, then back to Nicholi, who just looked uncomfortable. “I’m going to go. You stay and talk to him. Lord knows I can’t.”

And for the first time in her life, she didn’t even want to try. Without another word to either man, Tionne stormed from the room. She was beyond done.

Chapter Five

“I have to say I expected you to have at least a two-day leeway before the shit hit the fan. My math skills must be getting rusty.”

Misha wasn’t appreciative of Nicholi’s attempt at humor. Irritated, he grabbed his tumbler off the desk and downed the rest of the amber liquor in one shot. The whiskey burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the hollow pain he felt in his chest. “I’m glad you’re amused.”

“I’m not, but I’m also not surprised. I told you this was going to happen.”

“Do I look as if I’m in the mood for an
I told you so
?” He set the empty glass back on the desk, then dropped into the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes briefly.

“Nope,” Nicholi said as he rounded the desk and came to his cousin’s side. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you one anyway. I’m your older cousin. It’s my job to make your life as difficult as possible. Look, for the record, I’m not saying Troy didn’t deserve it either. We both know he got off lightly. You weren’t the only one who wanted a piece of him for what he did to Little Bit. I would have loved a minute alone with him as well.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“Your lack of communication skills, for starters.” Nicholi rested against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are one of the smartest, most levelheaded men I know, but when it comes to Tionne, you lose all semblance of rationality. She’s your Achilles’ heel, man. Your kryptonite. Your—”

“I get your point,” Misha interrupted drily before his cousin could get anymore cliché. “I care very much for her. Everyone knows this.”

“You more than care for her. You love her.”

Misha tried to keep his face blank, no easy task since he was simmering on the inside. “Of course I do. We both do.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You’re in love with her. In a way I’ll never be. And we both know it.”

Misha stilled. “Watch yourself, Nicholi. You’re pushing me.”

“So.” Nicholi snorted, clearly not impressed with Misha’s threat. “Whatcha going to do,
little cousin
. Fire me?
Try
to beat me up too?”

“Try?” Misha arched an eyebrow. Did everyone question his fighting skills? First Tionne and now Nicholi. If they kept it up, Misha was liable to get a complex.

“Yeah, I said it.” Nicholi nodded. “You can fight the world if you have to, but it doesn’t change anything anymore than your attempt to ignore what you really feel for her.”

“You’re mistaken. I love her like a little si—”

Nicholi held his hand up. “If you say sister, I’m going to throw up, because I’m your cousin, and I sure in hell hope you don’t look at me the same way you look at her when you think no one is paying attention.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Nicholi was seeing too deeply into something Misha himself wasn’t ready to admit to aloud.

“Why? Because it makes you human?”

“No, because it would make me a pervert,” he snapped. “I’ve known her since she was four. I lived in her house, for God’s sake.”

“For what…two years? Big deal. You’re not related to her. You didn’t grow up fighting over toys or chores.”

That didn’t matter, and for the life of him, Misha couldn’t understand why his cousin didn’t see it. “When her father died…”

“You did the right thing, but she’s an adult now, Misha. You don’t have to keep protecting her. Especially not from the way you feel about her.”

“What do you think her father would think of what you’re suggesting? Or Tionne? She would hate me.”