Page 141 of Lethal Legacy

Curiosity gets the better of me. “What makes you say that?”

“Just that he’s been riding Dimitry at work night and day ever since that week in the mountains. And by the multiple black eyes I’ve dressed, he’s been taking Dimitry apart in the boxing ring on a regular basis, too. If I hadn’t seen how hot he is for you when we were up at the farm, I’d have been worried for your safety, girl. But I do wonder how on earth you put up with him. He’s so... grim.”

I might have declined her invitation to go out. I’m not much one for partying, at all. But if I’m honest, the opportunity to pump Abby for information about Roman is too tempting to pass by.

“So,” I say, keeping my tone deliberately light, “what have you got in mind for tomorrow night?”

“You mean Rapunzel’s actually going to leave her tower?” Abby squeals. “That’s fucking incredible. Okay. I know you hate going out, so what about a girl’s night in? I’m thinking cocktails, get a meal delivered.”

“Fine,” I say, laughing. “But we’re not going out. And definitely not to Pillars nightclub, okay?”

“Not a chance,” she says scornfully. “I don’t ever want to see that prick Miguel again. Did you know he was actually seeing two other girls at the same time he was seeing me? Unbelievable.”

“Actually, I can. You know I never liked him. Dimitry is a hundred times better.”

“I know, right?” Abby sighs. “I’m in real trouble with that one, Luce. Anyhow. I can’t wait to tell you all about it tomorrow night. Come over in the afternoon, as soon as you can get away.”

“Sure.” I think of the Orlovs hunting me, the journalist who tracked me down at the parade, and what Roman might make of me heading out without security.

Then I remind myself that I’m not doing anything wrong. A night at Abby’s is hardly hitting the town. I’ve done okay at looking out for myself for six years. And besides, Roman hasn’t even remotely concerned himself with my whereabouts for over two weeks, and I’ve been just fine.

To hell with him.

He probably won’t even notice I’m gone.

“You look amaaazing!” Abby kisses me on the cheek and drags me upstairs into her apartment. I’ve always loved her little walk-up. It’s a cozy, bohemian space with a black-and-white-tiled floor, doors that open onto a tiny wrought iron balcony, and Abby’s art equipment strewn around everywhere. It smells of paint and turpentine, with secondhand furniture and a sagging old couch that’s perfect for curling up on.

“So.” She opens a bottle of wine and pours us both enormous glasses. “Tell me everything.”

“I’d rather hear about you and Dimitry.” I clink glasses with her. “How’s it all going?”

She tucks her legs underneath her. “Well, the sex is fucking amazing.” I laugh and settle back to listen. Abby barely draws breath for the next hour, telling me all about how she and Dimitry gradually got to know one another. “And I mean, it’s good now,” she says, “but he keeps so many secrets, you know? Like, I honestly don’t know anything about what he does, really, other than that he works for Roman and is his regular punching bag.”

She eyes me over her glass. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you about it,” she says half hopefully.

“No, I’m afraid.” I shake my head, avoiding her eyes. “I know about as much as you do. I’m the au pair, and that’s about as far into Roman’s business as I go.”

“Bullshit.” Abby sits back, staring at me with rather less humor than a moment ago. “I get that you won’t tell me the truth about your life, Luce. But at least be honest about what Roman is. Because I might be a lot of things, but I’m not an idiot. You two are a lot more than work associates, or at least you were two weeks ago. And Roman isn’t just the CEO of Hale, any more than you’re just a waitress from Argentina.”

I swallow my wine, unsure what to say. Abby and I have always avoided the topic of my past. Hers too, for that matter. The last thing I was expecting was a full frontal assault.

“Look.” She puts her glass on the rickety coffee table. “I have Google, Lucia. I know all about the Stevanovskys. I know Roman is the head of their organization, and so I’m guessing Dimitry is one of his...” She waves her hand in the air. “I don’t know. What do they call it in the Russian bratva?”

“Vor.” After so long, the word tastes strange on my lips. “They call themvor. Warrior.”

“There you go.” Abby picks up her glass again with a smug look. “And now we’re actually talking.”

“I can’t talk about any of this, Abby.” I turn my glass in my hand, feeling deeply unsettled. “If you’ve been googling Russian bratva, you know how dangerous their world is. So if you invited me here tonight to try to find out about Dimitry, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to leave again.”

“Their world, Luce? Or yours?” She leans forward, taking my hand. “I didn’t invite you here to cross-examine you. But I’m frustrated. I feel like I’m living in the middle of something I don’t understand. I’m falling in love with a man I barely know. And I’ve been screwed over so many times...” She shakes her head. “I’m just scared, I guess.”

I’m just scared.

Heat rushes through my body. For a moment I think I might actually throw up. Then suddenly I’m freezing, so cold I’m actually shivering.

I burst into tears.

It takes me completely by surprise.

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