Chapter 17

Dmitri

Just like I expected when I got into our usual room in the hotel that was slated for our meeting, she'd laid on the bed with a white robe on and her hair dripping wet as if she just had a shower.

She raised her champagne flute in the air and tilted it slightly. "Cheers, Mr Mikhailov, I thought you had changed your mind," She smirked and glanced at the clock.

I took off my jacket and advanced toward the bed, suddenly feeling tired. I sank onto it and rested my head against the headboard.

"There's nothing else that could have changed my mind," I admitted because...