Page 65 of Blood Mosaic

And SMO International was Oleg.

Tatyana was going to find out how much her room cost—or maybe how much a smaller room was. As long as Oleg controlled her money, he controlled her.

“Still, I think it’s quite telling that Mr. Sokolov brought you here.” Lorala walked back to the kitchenette. “He has multiple properties in Odesa, but instead of taking you to his people, he brought you to the Admiral.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.” Lorala started the coffee maker again. “But if he wanted to control your every move, he wouldn’t have brought you here.”

Chapter Fifteen

She looked sick. When Seban had dropped the woman off at the Admiral, she had looked sick to her stomach. Was Oleg repulsive to her now?

He should probably give her a few nights to recover before he resumed his pursuit, but a voice inside Oleg told him that would be a mistake.

He stared at the round blue tesserae he’d set into the mosaic at his house. The color of the tile mirrored the ocean in sunlight, a sight he only ever saw in paintings or on screens now.

What color would Tatyana Vorona’s hair be in the sunlight?

He pressed his fingers against the cool concrete wall and heated it very slowly with his amnis. He was out of patience with this project and with the entire situation. Tatyana Vorona should be grateful. He was going to make her a lot of money.

The water in the sea air slowed the rate that the concrete set and clung to his skin. “Seban?”

His driver spoke from his chair by the door. “Yes, boss?”

“Where is Mika?”

“Probably at his place. He said he and Oksana had a bunch of calls to return at nightfall.”

Mika’s calls could wait. “Fetch him for me.”

“Yes, boss.”

Seban walked away, and Oleg continued slowly curing the cement he’d used to affix the new pieces of the mural. After those pieces were secure, he picked up a handful of pebble-like glass pieces in a greenish hue and began to imagine how he would place them in the emerging seascape.

“Seawater at dusk,” he murmured to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the exact hue, but his imagination flew toward the woman again.

Interesting.

Oleg was over a thousand years old; he didn’t question why his mind became preoccupied with certain people or subjects. Perhaps it was indulgent, but he’d lived long enough at the mercy of others’ whims.

If he wanted to fixate on a mural, he would. If he wanted to seduce a human, he would seduce her. If he wanted to shower her with gifts, he had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Is there a problem?”

Oleg didn’t turn around when Mika walked into the room. “You and Oksana have the Vorona woman under surveillance, correct?”

“Twenty-four hours.”

“Good.” He spread a thin skin of cement over the wall. “Find a picture of her in the sunlight. I need to see the color of her hair.”

Mika walked closer. “You interrupted an important call with Radu because you want to see a woman’s hair in the sun?”

“It won’t be exact, but it’s the best I can do,” Oleg muttered. “Video would be better.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I’m interested.” He glanced over his shoulder. “There’s a difference.”

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