Page 66 of Brutal Secrets

Vadim’s footsteps sound on the carpet behind me, and he pulls me against him, banding his arm around my waist as he reaches into his bag and pulls out an old phone.

“Use this,” he whispers, pressing his mouth against the crook of my neck and tasting the salt on my skin.

I dial the number I know by heart. “Hey, Stevie.”

My best friend’s voice sounds strained as he picks up on the first ring. “Sera. Thank Christ. I’ve been out of my head with worry. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days. Where have you guys been? I called your PA, and she didn’t know anything. Aren’t you supposed to be preparing your deposition today?”

Vadim lets his hand drift up my arm and across my shoulders as he walks past me to stand in front of the sink. He produces a toothbrush and begins his morning routine.

I grin at Vadim, only half my mind on the conversation with my bandmate. “Some things came up and we had to get out of town.”

“Out of town where?”

“I can’t tell you. We’re keeping everything on the DL.”

Vadim nods at me in the mirror, his mouth full of toothpaste and a smile in his eyes.

“For crying out loud, what are you playing at, Sera? Does this have something to do with that Russian bastard?”

Turning away from the bathroom, I frown at the way my friend still talks to me like a wayward child rather than the person who pays his salary. And this petty jealousy has to stop. “Watch it, Stevie. He’s Nadia’s dad. You might not like him, but he’s part of her life.”

“Since when?”

“Since now. Since forever. She only has one father, and you can’t talk about him like that.” The sound of a toothbrush clattering against the sink distracts me as I turn back to see Vadim staring at me, the smile wiped from his face.

“Sure I can,” Stevie says. “I can talk about the bastard who abandoned you any way I like. I’ve been more of a father to Nadia than he’s ever been. What are you doing?”

Stevie carries on ranting at me, but I’m only half listening as I watch Vadim stride past me. Picking up the bag next to me, he begins sifting through the evidence of his presence in this room, in my life, and starts packing it away.

“Stevie. You are my best friend. Please don’t be like this.”

“Can’t you see the mess you’re making of your life?”

I look out of the window, at the parking lot and the bright sunlight. I bite down on my lip. “That might be true. But it’s my life and it’s my mess, and I’m the only one who gets to decide what is best for my daughter. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s a long pause, and then Stevie grudgingly cedes some ground. “I’m not questioning your parenting.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” I bite out. “We’re out of town for a few days, and then we’ll be back with increased security. But from now on, I really need you to watch how you speak about Vadim. He’s her father, okay?”

I look over at Vadim, but he’s got his back to me. His head bends over his duffel bag in a posture of defeat.

“Are you two together, then?”

“No, Stevie...but I don’t want you badmouthing a man who might be part of Nadia’s life.” I put every ounce of hope and conviction I can into my tone, even though the lines of Vadim’s body are spelling out a message I don’t want to read.

“So what, you’re drawing up shared custody arrangements?” I can almost hear the sneer on his face.

“Don’t get on my case like this. I’m firefighting on so many fronts right now. A court case. A media battle. A new album.”

There’s a pause. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says.

This time, I pause. I don’t say that I don’t have a clue. I didn’t get to where I am today by admitting that to any of the men in my life. Give them an inch...

“Yes. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m doing what’s right for my daughter, and I’m writing the lyrics to the next album.” My voice sounds confident to my own ears as I hang up and toss the phone on the bed. It’s a lie, because I’m standing in my underwear, watching the man who holds my heart avoid my eyes as he pulls on his clothes.

Each sound is unnaturally loud. The ticking of the clock, a slam of a car door, and the roar of a motorbike as some racer goes speeding by. I pull jeans on, fumbling with the buttons as my fingers shake.

Vadim walks over and kneels in front of me. Taking my hands in his, he presses his lips against the lace of my panties, kissing every inch of skin before carefully doing up each button of my jeans. He leans his head against my stomach as I rake my hands through his hair. The strands brush gently against the exposed skin of my navel. I want to burn each touch into me like one of his tattoos, permanently branding my body with the way I feel about him.

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