Just Mine
The way he said the name, with disbelief dripping off each syllable, the way his eyes sliced through me as if I were some kind of idiot, made me straighten in my chair, defensive.
“Yes,” I said, firmer this time.
He tilted his head, smug and almost pitying.
“Is that what he told you his name was?”
I paused. “…Yes,” I repeated, now less sure of myself.
“His name is Alex Volkov. He’s the heir to the Russian Empire,” Meanie said flatly. “And you’re just sitting here, flirting—because yes, that is what it looked like. Do you even remember you’re married? Do you know you can’t be flirting with other men? Especially not the enemy?”
“Hey, calm down,” Marco/Alex interrupted smoothly. His tone was casual, but his body had gone still. “We are not enemies. This is the wife of a very good friend. I saw her here alone and I was just introducing myself.”
“Yeah, right,” Meanie muttered, unimpressed.
Alex leaned forward a little. “After all,” he added with a small shrug, “I wasn’t expecting to meet her here. I had just come to meet one of my contacts. But when I was leaving, I saw her and thought, Isn’t this Cullen Cincinnati’s new wife? And what was she doing here, all alone?”
He softened his tone. “Since we both know what happened with Bella, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I was… gauging her reaction. Checking on her well-being.”
And there it was again.
Bella.
The third time someone had brought up something about Bella and Cyrus, something off about them.
And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t want to think about Bella. I didn’t want to hear her name, I didn’t want her in my head but somehow, it was always about her.
Even now, even this, this random meeting, this moment that felt like mine, was just another ripple caused by Bella.
Because now I realized… Alex didn’t just approach me. He targeted me. Because of her. It’s always Bella. Always has been.
Can’t I have one? Just one moment where a guy likes me and Bella isn't involved?
That thought echoed like a scream in my mind. I would’ve loved to see what that felt like. To be wanted, just for being me. Not because of Bella. Not because of some twisted mafia scheme or family feud. Just... me.
But the moment had crumbled. So I stood up. Abruptly. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor startled both of them. Their eyes turned to me at once, but I didn’t say a word. I just turned around and walked straight out of the restaurant.
It wasn’t until I pushed through the door that I realized something kind of hilarious: I didn’t even have money on me. Not a cent. No purse. No card. Just my phone.
I almost laughed, really laughed because I had become so used to going out with bodyguards who took care of everything. Someone always paid. Someone always hovered. Someone always handled it.
By the time I reached the car, the driver was still parked outside, engine humming. I opened the door and slid in, still shaking with silent, bitter laughter.
“Drive,” I said, wiping the corner of my eye with the back of my hand.
But the driver didn’t move.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said hesitantly. “Tony told me to wait.”
“Tony?” I blinked. “Who’s Tony?”
“Your bodyguard,” he replied like it was obvious. “Mr. Cincinnati appointed him as your guard. He’s been following you around all day.”
My eyes widened. He’s been following me all day? And I didn’t even notice?
I stared out the window in disbelief, my mind racing. A bodyguard had been with me this entire time. Watching. Silent. And I had no idea. None.
But more than that, Tony?
I froze. Is Meanie’s name Tony?
Of all the people Cullen could’ve chosen to guard me, he picked the one person who visibly, openly, unapologetically hated my guts. The one who made it clear I was unwelcome here? He chose him to watch over me?
Was it a joke? Some twisted way of making sure I was as miserable as I could be?
As if summoned by my frustration, Tony appeared a few minutes later. He didn’t get in. Didn’t speak. Just opened the door on my side and stood there, staring at me with that expression.
That look. Like a disappointed parent watching their hopeless child make mistake after mistake.
I crossed my arms and stared back, unimpressed.
“You know what?” I said, voice sharp. “If you’re going to follow me around like a shadow, you better get used to being disappointed.”
My meanie bodyguard sighed before he said, “Could you give us a second?”
“Of course,” the driver replied and got out of the car, closing the door behind him.
I turned my full attention on him, bracing myself for whatever nonsense he was about to throw at me. I was ready.
His first words came with that familiar sharp tone.
“You know I have to report this, don’t you?”
“Report what?” I asked.
“What I saw happening today.”
“I don't give a fuck.”
That surprised me. It surprised him, too, judging by the flicker in his eyes. But it surprised me more. I didn’t know I had that in me.
Actually, I was kind of proud of myself.
But my words didn’t seem to bother him. He just gave me a twisted smile.
“I just thought I would talk to you before we went back to the house.”
“Talk to me about what?”
“Please,” he said, tone shifting to something close to pleading. “Just don’t do what you did today ever again.”
“Do what?” I asked, folding my arms. “Enjoy myself? Actually have fun?”
“That,” he snapped, “is Alex Volkov.”
He said the name like it should shake me to my core. Like I was supposed to tremble just hearing it.
“Jesus,” he muttered, stepping back, “you’re a lost case.”
He called for the driver and didn’t even wait for a response before walking away toward another car that had been parked nearby. He got in without looking back.
The driver returned a moment later, slid into the front seat, and started driving us home in silence.
And just like that, the little moment I thought could be mine, just mine was gone. Snatched away like it never belonged to me in the first place.
Just when I thought I’d get to enjoy myself... just when I thought this might finally be a good day.
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