Page 17 of Deadly Devotion

She stands, getting closer to the desk. Running her fingertips across the photos, she studies each one, stopping at the last one. “I recognize the men who were in the poker room, but I don’t see the man who shot your brother.”

After scooping up the photos, I set them aside. Then I laid down more pictures in front of her. “Does anyone look familiar?”

Looking closely at their faces, she shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Blyat!“ I slam my fist on the table hard enough to make Talia jump backward. “I was sure you’d recognize that scumbag, Lupani.”

“Lupani?” she asks. “I heard the man say that name before he shot Mikhail.”

“You’re sure?” I ask, hope rising in my chest.

“Yes. He said something about Mikhail taking Mr. Lupani’s money.”

This was just what I needed to make a positive connection between Gio Lupani and Mikhail. Lupani might not have pulled the trigger, but one of his men did. And that makes him responsible for my brother’s death.

Olga’s gentle knocking on the office door gets my attention. “Mr. Avilov, the children are ready.”

“Thank you, Olga. Please bring them in.” Quickly gathering the photos, I tuck them away into my desk drawer. “Nikolai, escort Talia to the living room while I speak with the children.”

“Da,” Nikolai replies. Sasha gives Talia a small wave from the office doorway. Maxim high-fives her as they pass each other. It appears she has a fan club.

“Sasha, Maxim, please sit,” I request. They sit in the chairs across from me while Olga stands behind them. “I have some news.” I take a deep, slow breath before continuing. “First, I’d like to remind you that I love you both very much.” The children look at each other, bewildered. I don’t use the word ‘love’ often, so it’s strange for them to hear. “There’s been an incident; your father was killed last night.” Sasha’s eyes well up with tears, while Maxim’s expression remains stoic.

“What happened?” Maxim asks. His voice is strong as he looks me in the eyes, wanting the truth. He is aware of the family ‘business’, although he is still young. Sasha thinks we’re an average family and rich because of my art gallery.

“I don’t know all the facts,” I respond in the most truthful way I can. “I’m looking into it and will hopefully know more soon.”

Maxim accepts this answer without pushback. He hugs his sister, consoling her tiny sobs. Olga hugs them both, offering comfort and support. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, drying Sasha’s tears.

“You will both remain here and have everything you need and want.” Sasha rushes around the desk, hugging me tightly. Maxim joins her, uttering his gratitude. “We’re family, and family takes care of each other.”

Olga takes the children out of the office, and Talia returns. I sit on the edge of the desk across from Talia’s seat. “You will remain here until we find Mikhail’s killer. I’m sure it was one of Gio Lupani’s men, which means you are in danger if they find you. And I need you alive. You may not contact or speak to anyone outside of this estate.” I dismiss her by walking around the desk and sitting in my leather chair.

“Wait a minute, this conversation isn’t over.” Standing, she plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Yes, it is. You may go.” I ignore her scathing look as I open up my laptop.

“Aleksandr! I will not be dismissed. What about Sandy? I want to speak with her,” she insists.

I look up from my laptop to see her face red with anger and her lips drawn in a tight line. The fierceness in her is turning me on, which is the last thing I need right now. I raise one eyebrow without saying a word, waiting to see how far she will take this.

“Please, I want to speak with Sandy.” Her tone has softened, but I can still see the fire in her hazel eyes.

“Sandy is fine. She is protected,” I say, leaving her no room to argue with me.

Seemingly defeated, she sits down in the chair. “What about with the children? Do they know about Mikhail?”

I can hear the concern in her voice, and it’s surprising since she just met them. “Yes. I didn’t give them details, but they know he is gone.”

“What will happen to them now?” she inquires, chewing on her bottom lip.

“They will remain with me.”

“That’s very kind of you. I wasn’t lucky enough to have family take me in when my parents died.” A sadness flashed briefly in her eyes before she focused on me again. “What about your parents? Are they still alive?”

I’m not the type of man to open up to someone, but for some reason I find myself telling her about my family before I can pull the words back. “My mother died a year ago, and Otets died eight years ago. I took over the family after him, when I was twenty-four years old.”

“You mean you took over the art gallery?” She seems genuinely interested in wanting to know more.

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