I hear a soft click. When I glance back over my shoulder, I realize that Shura left. We’re alone. Fine. Better not to have witnesses for the ensuing homicide, anyway.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Andrey rumbles. I wait for him to say something else—anything else, really—but he keeps looking at me with that coolly detached expression.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”
“To be perfectly honest, Natalia, I’m willing to say whatever I need to if it means I can continue with my day.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I feel as though my head’s about to explode.
“You’re busy? Poor thing. It must be hard to be so darn important. Well, guess what? I’m not busy at all. I’ve got nothing to do except sit around and wait for gifts I don’t want and visits I want even less. I’m—I’m—I’m sofuck
