Page 33 of Shadows of Obsession

She knows I'm referring to the smile.

She gets out of the car and stands a few inches from me.

"I'm firmly convinced you know a multitude of ways to make a person disappear, but still you rushed to open the door for me," she answers, and a laugh, a laugh from her soul, rings in my ears as I look at her.

She has a slight sparkle in her eyes and I know I put it there. If I need to open all the doors in this life, I know I would do it just to ensure that sparkle doesn't die.

I realize she's spoken to me informally, but I don't see her notice it, which I take as a small victory.

"Thank you for driving me, Mr. Borisov."

And of course she's back to formal speech. She heads toward the building entrance, but I lock the car and run after her.

"I'm not leaving until I see you safely in your apartment," my tone is final, and at my confession she frowns as if she doesn't understand what I mean by that.

"Nobody's going to eat me between the building entrance and the apartment," she tells me but opens the entrance door and lets me in too.

Rationally she's right, but the thought of not seeing her safely in her apartment causes further turmoil in my chest, and I startwondering if I should talk to Kai. Maybe I need a heart check with how it acts when it comes to her.

I already know she lives on the second floor, so I follow her up the stairs, keeping a distance between us so she doesn't feel threatened by my presence.

Once we reach her apartment, without showing signs of entering, she turns to me. "Well I suppose we'll see each other tomorrow? Do you still need my help?" she asks, and I notice the hope in her voice.

I look at her, trying to figure out what's going through that head of hers right now, and then I register that she's spoken to me informally again. Judging by her look, she realizes the same thing.

"Of course. Get inside your apartment, Luna. I want to make sure you're home before I leave."

Something indefinable flickers in her gaze, but she keeps silent and steps inside without mentioning the fact that, for the first time, she's abandoned the formal 'Mr. Borisov.'

After I descend the stairs and exit the building, heading toward the car, I'm struck by the feeling I've learned to recognize since childhood.

Someone is watching me.

Chapter 16

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Roman

While getting out of the car in front of my house, I call Anton and send him to guard Luna's building. Besides Niko, he's the man I trust most. I don't know who, but I'm sure someone was watching me when I left her building's stairwell. And although it could just be some pawn of a rival wanting to know my movements, I don't exclude the possibility that those eyes were there for Luna, not for me.

After giving him clear instructions about what he can and cannot do around her, I enter the house and hear Anuska, the woman who makes sure we don't die of hunger and don't get buried in dust, practically screaming at me.

"Roman, this girl is going to be the death of me!"

She moves around the kitchen island to hug me. I generally don't understand the necessity of this form of affection, but it seems to help Anuska, so I return her embrace with one arm while sitting down to hear her complain about Victoria.

My little sister is the definition of a short-fused bomb, and I wouldn't change anything about that. After being diagnosed with epilepsy, I know something in her broke, and just like with Luna, I want to see the sparkle in her eyes, not its absence.

"What has she done this time?" I ask while tasting one of the donuts she only makes for special occasions, and I try toremember if I've forgotten something, but no...I'm sure there's nothing special today.

"Again she won't come out of her room to eat. She’s got her nose in those books even though she's already skin and bones. Not an ounce of meat on the poor girl. What are boys supposed to grab onto?" she tells me in one breath.

At the mention of boys, I think she notices my expression has morphed, become frightening, because she puts her hand to her mouth and starts, "Roman, she's eighteen. She's curious. You can't keep her locked up in the house like a baby."

I know she's right, but the reality still irritates me. If it wasn't Anuska making these comments, I probably would have already pulled out my gun to shoot the responsible party.

The problem isn't that boys don't look at her. Victoria is five feet five inches tall, has my gray eyes and dark hair that falls in waves past her shoulders. She's exactly what every eighteen-year-old boy is looking for, and I've made sure they all understand how many fingers they'll lose and in how many painful ways a spleen can be removed if they look in her direction.

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