Page 174 of Lethal Legacy

I just didn’t imagine that Roman would put the kids through that same kind of torture. To think that he will, even for Inger’s sake, is disappointing.

Oh, sure, Darya.That’swhy you’re disappointed.

That steely internal voice seems to be making a comeback. Clearly the logical part of me knows I’m in desperate need of a hard dose of reality.

“Is that all, Mrs. Stevanovsky?” Keeping my eyes down, I back toward the door.

“For now.” Her eyes flare with triumph. “I’ll let Romie know if there’s anything else.”

“Thank you,” I mutter.

I open the door and flee, accompanied by the sound of her shrill, artificial laughter.

“Oh, Romie,” I hear as the door closes. “Nikolai said she waspretty.”

Ishower in a numb state of confusion, then dress in the most comfortable pajamas I own. I’m in no mood for lingerie sets right now.

I have no idea what I’m in any mood for.

I curl up on my small two-seat sofa, nursing a cup of peppermint tea.

Is peppermint tea harmful to unborn babies?

I have no idea. I also have absolutely no appetite.

Now I’m starving it, too.

It?

What an awful thing to call a baby.

For some odd reason the nameplate on the safe pops into my mind.

“Borovsky,” I mutter, holding my hand over my belly. “That’s what I’ll call you, since you’re a secret that’s in a safe place.”

I find myself smiling, and that strikes me as the weirdest thing of all, in a day that has been chock-full of weird.

I sit in the same numb state for a good hour, until a tentative knock comes at my door. I wrap myself in my robe and cross the room, praying it isn’t Roman. I’m not sure I have the strength for that encounter right now.

Instead, I open it to find three little faces staring at me. A tearstained Masha is standing between her siblings, clutching one each of their hands. Mickey and Ofelia look at me with mingled expressions of shame and tension that break my heart completely.

“Oh, darling.” I kneel down, and Masha lets go of her siblings’ hands, wrapping her arms and legs around me as I pick her up. “Come in,” I say over her shoulder, and the kids file silently in behind her. Keeping hold of the taut little figure wrapped around me, I put chocolate on the stove and get the latest batch ofalfajoresout of the cupboard.

“Mama’s gone,” Ofelia says quietly. She and Mickey exchange a tense look. “She’s out for dinner with Roman,” she says nervously.

“Okay.” I smile at her and stroke the hair back from her face, which has been washed clean of makeup. She’s swapped the black dress and stilettos for sweatpants and a T-shirt, her hair in a loose ponytail. “You look exhausted.” I hand her the cookies. “Want to watchDirty Dancingagain? I was just about to put it on.”

Ofelia looks at me skeptically. “Aren’t you angry?”

“Of course not, darling.” My lying skills are seriously getting a workout today. “Roman and your mama have a lot of things they need to talk about in relation to you guys, and not a lot of time to do it. I’m glad they’re catching up tonight.”

“Yeah,” Mickey mutters. “Sure.” His jaw clenches, and the dark anger in his eyes is not at all unlike his godfather’s.

“Don’t be cross at Roman,” I say. “He’s got a lot going on right now.”

“Ha.” His laugh is entirely mirthless. He moves restlessly around the room. I watch him from the corner of my eye, wondering what’s going on there.

“Ofelia said Dimitry came and got you this afternoon,” I say to him, stroking Masha’s back as I stir the chocolate. She hasn’t said a word, but her breathing is still short and uneven, and she’s as stiff as a board in my arms. “Is everything okay?”

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