Page 144 of Ivory Ashes

He lets out a humorless chuckle. “A little boring, right? She ran from danger, but it found her anyway. It was an ordinary accident. The sun was bright and she ran a red light. A truck T-boned our car on her side. She died and I survived. So I went back to live with my dad.”

The story is heartbreaking, but one detail still sticks out.

“I’m sorry, but… why are you here?” I repeat. “I mean, your father was the son of a don. How did you end up as Mikhail’s driver?”

“How did I fall so far from grace, you mean?”

My face flushes. “I’m sorry, I just?—”

“It’s okay.” He waves me away. “It’s a fair question. The answer there is a bit mundane, too, I’m afraid. My mother didn’t just run from my father because of his connections to the crime world. He was also a mean drunk. The drinking only got worse after she left and even worse after she died. By the time I was old enough to head out on my own, my grandfather had disowned my dad. We were living in a hovel on the edge of town without two pennies to rub together.”

“So you applied to work for Mikhail?”

He shrugs. “My life taught me how to keep secrets. And even though I seem like I’m on the straight and narrow now, I have a decent-sized rap sheet. Mikhail knew I would never say a word against him because I have no interest in being noticed by the police. It was mutually assured destruction that sealed our working relationship.”

“How romantic,” I drawl.

“I respect Mikhail and I like working for him, but…” Pyotr lowers his voice like maybe the walls have ears, after all. “—that doesn’t mean I agree with what he’s doing to you, Viviana.”

I give him a sad smile. “Thanks. If only sympathy could get me out of here.”

He pauses. “Is that what you want? To get out?”

I blink at him. Is this a test?

“It’s not exactly a secret that I’m not happy about being trapped here. The panic attack this morning probably clued a few people in.”

“Being upset and wanting to leave are two different things.” He’s staring at me with an intensity that forces me to stare back. “Think about it, Viviana. Think through all of the possible benefits and consequences, and… if you do that and still want to leave, I’ll help you.”

“Why?” I blurt. “Why would you do that for me?”

He pats my hand with his. “I wouldn’t be doing it for you. It would be for her.”

52

MIKHAIL

The kitchen is busier than I’ve seen it in years. Dante is sitting on the counter, kicking his feet against the cabinet door below him as he helps Stella arrange cookies on a baking sheet. Anatoly is leaning across the island, tickling Dante’s side every few seconds and sending him into a fit of giggles. Raoul is lounging at the table, disconnected from everyone, but watching closely.

I take account of each and every one of them in an instant.

I also take account of the one person missing.

“Where is she?”

Everyone stiffens at the sound of my voice except for Dante. He’s still giggling from the latest round of tickling. He turns back to me with a smile. “Mama is sick.”

For a split second, I believe him. Viviana is sick and no one told me? Why the fuck am I just hearing about this now?

Then I see Anatoly’s face.

I storm out of the kitchen and am halfway up the stairs when Anatoly catches my arm. “I think you should let it go, Mikhail. She isn’t doing well.”

“It’s been two days,” I growl. “She can’t stay in her room forever.”

Though, now that I say it out loud, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Out of sight, out of mind. It didn’t work the last six years, but might as well give it another go, right?

“It won’t be forever. She just needs some time.”

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