Chapter 43: Nyra Morin
"Sir, Mrs. Morin would like to speak to see you," Patro’s assistant informed from the other side of the phone.
"Let him in," he permitted.
The door pushed open and a woman walked in. Short blonde hair with a body wrapped in fine dark green silk and hands covered by black stylish gloves. The sound of her heels reverberated through the office as she approached the desk where Patro was and pulled out a seat for herself.
She peered at him with her emerald eyes as she crossed her legs and Patro smirked at her.
"You never cease to amaze me, Nyra," he said.
The woman held no smile.
"Look at you. Beautiful always, I can’t even keep my eyes off you."
"Don’t ever speak to me that way ever again, Patro," she warned.
But Patro grinned. "Why? Is it because of your mate? The one that doesn’t amount to anything? I’m unsure what you see in him. You are the name—the character behind the Morin. Your mate is completely out of your league, why are you—"
Nyra Morin snatched him by his hair, her grip tight and meant to be painful, whether Patro admitted it or not. She stared him straight into the eyeball, pure threat in her gaze. "Listen here, Patro Zolotov, I am not your ex-mate that you played around however you wanted. I am Nyra Morin and the next time you open your filthy mouth to speak that way about my mate, I swear to the goddess, I will tear you apart. Keep my mate out of your mouth. Whether he amounts to a thing or not, is none of your business. He’s mine and only I get to decide if he’s out of my league or not."
"You wouldn’t know what it means to cherish a mate anyway. Filthy manwhore."
She shoved his head and sat back into her chair, legs crossed and composure back to normal as if she hadn’t just lost it on him for a second there.