Page 12 of The Brutal Arrangement

I shook my head and turned to leave, convinced there was no way in fucking hell they’d get me to go along with this idiotic idea.

5

LUCY

When I started this job at the Kozlov mansion, it was so quiet and simple. Easy work for good pay.

The longer that Anton stayed at the residence, though, I understood more and more why Joann warned me that he was a gruff jerk. And why I should mind my own business.

Some days, it was easier said than done with how loudly he could yell and belittle and rant and demand. Whether it was on the phone. With his guards and soldiers. Or even directly with his niece. I hated those occasions the most, when Katerina and Anton would fight. She was so defiant and stubborn, never caving to whatever he was trying to tell her to do. I didn’t follow much of what he expected of her. I couldn’t. Because I truly, honestly didn’t want to hear a single word this raving Mafia man said. Getting involved was the absolute last thing that I wanted to do, but it wasn’t as simple as turning to look away and tuning them out. He was that loud. And she was that sassy right back.

One morning, I tried to handle the tricky chores earlier than usual. By tricky, I meant the ones that might set me up to encounter Anton. It really was preferred to avoid him altogetherif I could. While he didn’t seem to notice me specifically as an individual to bother or berate, he carried such a horrible negative energy that I didn’t want to be near him at all if I could help it.

Carrying my cleaning supplies to the study at the end of one particular hallway, I stepped quietly and quickly, praying that like all the other times I dusted that room, no one would be in it.

I was wrong.

“Oh!” I stopped short, seeing Katerina slouched in a chair, laptop in hand.

She didn’t react as startled as I had, but she didn’t waste a second in slapping her laptop closed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” I began backing up, curious what that screen meant. A long list of acronyms showed, and I couldn’t help but think that I’d seen it before. The map wasn’t familiar, but those acronyms…

No, I’m thinking of those facilities and programs I researched for Mom.

I shook my head, hating the possibility that I was so curious that it’d seem like I was prying.

“No. No.” Katerina set the laptop aside but kept her hand on top of it. I often spotted her on a computer, but never when Anton was near. “It’s all right. You’re up early, Lucy.”

I smiled, enjoying how it seemed like we could be friends. Small talk was the extent of what I shared with most clients at the houses I cleaned at. When I sensed that drama was brewing, I refrained from even that. However, in this first weekthat Katerina had been home, it seemed like she had genuinely friendly intentions toward me.

She had to give a damn about me at a basic level for stopping those guards from bothering me, something I’d thanked her for a few times.

“So are you,” I replied kindly. While I was curious what she did on her computer, often typing at what seemed like a supersonic speed of her fingers clacking over the buttons rapidly, I wouldn’t dare to ask. That wasn’t proper. Because weweren’tfriends. I was just the maid.

She shrugged, but as she glanced to the side of the room, almost as if she didn’t want to be confronted with the fact that she was up early, I noticed how exhausted she looked. And just like I always did, the typical bleeding heart that I was, I was concerned. “Couldn’t sleep?” I guessed.

Sighing, she slumped deeper into the chair and tipped her head over at the other one, implying that I should sit. “Not really. What’s your excuse?”

“I just wanted a head start on the day’s work.” I sat, knowing she’d insist that I join her for a moment. I’d lost every round of her invitation to “talk”. First, she insisted that I have lunch with her. Then another time, to enjoy the sunset. And then another time, for breakfast. Something got me thinking she was lonely, and it was ironic that she’d seemeas someone to confide in.

“Did you get a chance last night to talk to your mom?” she asked, now more familiar with my situation. I didn’t go into details of telling her where my mom was staying, but I was upfront in a vague way that I was working to fund my mom’s care and stay after her early-onset Alzheimer’s diagnosis. I’d shown her onmy phone how I was searching for different care programs and facilities for her.

“I didn’t.” I shook my head and hated how it still stung so badly. I knew it would get worse. She’d have fewer “good” days until they disappeared completely. But I wanted to get my hopes up high and think that she had a decent amount of good ones left to let me experience them with her. “She was agitated.”

“From the medication?” she asked. It could’ve seemed nosy and blunt, but I’d gotten to know her that well over this one week. She was inquiring out of real concern. “Or from the disease?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. If I could get her into that other facility, the staff would be more on-task and probably give her the care she needs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

“It is what it is. Thanks for asking.”

We chatted a little more about this and that, still learning more about each other, but the sound of Anton yelling for someone was like the record scratch we didn’t want.

Katerina rubbed her face and groaned. “We’ll catch up later.”

I nodded, not wanting to stress her out by talking any further. Nor did I want to risk being in trouble for speaking with her instead of just being the maid I was supposed to be.

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