I open the bedroom door and step into the hallway, feeling the cool air against my overheated skin. The mansion is quiet except for muffled voices coming from Anatoly's study.
I walk slowly, my bare feet silent against the polished hardwood. There's something about moving through this place that still feels surreal. A month ago, I was barely scraping by, and now I'mliving in this fortress of luxury. A month ago, I was hollow and numb, and now I'm... what? Happy? I'm not sure that's the right word, but it's something close.
I glanceat the ornate grandfather clock in the hallway and notice it's almost ten in the morning. I've lost track of time in Anatoly's arms again.
Svetlana is nowhere to be seen. She must be with Amara at school by now.
The two of them have grown surprisingly close over these past four weeks. Amara was suspicious at first—who wouldn't be when their sister suddenly marries into the Russian mafia?—but Svetlana's dry humor and unwavering honesty won her over.
I smile as I think about how protective Svetlana has become, escorting Amara everywhere with that dangerous grace of hers. I'm grateful for their friendship.
My stomach growls, and I feel a slight queasiness from hunger.
I haven't eaten any real food since last night. I head downstairs to the kitchen, where I assemble a quick breakfast of yogurt and fresh berries.
The food calms my stomach a little, and after eating, I wander to the library that has become almost a second home for me.
I scan the shelves until I find the novel I started yesterday. Book in hand, I walk back down the hallway toward the manicured lawn. As I pass Anatoly's office, I hear raised voices from within.I recognize Roma's urgent tone and Anatoly's deeper, more controlled responses.
I slow my steps. I shouldn't eavesdrop. This isn't my business.
But that's when I hear a third voice.
A smooth and rich baritone that sounds like a jackhammer ripping up the concrete sidewalks to me.
Wait, what?
The world spins around my feet, and the book falls from my hand, clattering to the floor. I feel the light breakfast I just had rising back up before I swallow it back down.
I glance around to make sure no one's watching, then creep closer to the heavy door and press my ear against it, heart racing and breaking with every word I hear.
38
ANATOLY
I closethe door behind me, still irritated at Roma's interruption. His timing couldn't have been worse. I'd much rather be back in bed with Indigo right now, watching, tasting, and hearing her come again.
Even after four weeks of this, I can't get enough of her.
I don't bother throwing on a shirt. Roma's seen me in worse states.
"This better be important," I growl, reaching for the crystal decanter.
Vodka splashes into two tumblers. I hand one to Roma before walking to the window, bringing my fingers to my nose. They still smell like Indigo - her perfume, her sweat, her essence. I inhale deeply, allowing myself this small pleasure while Roma gathers his thoughts.
The silence stretches between us until Roma finally speaks.
"Bennett won the election last night, not that you seem to care."
I take a long sip, letting the burn of alcohol replace the warmth of Indigo's body. "And?"
"He should be calling you any moment now. To honor your agreement."
I grunt in acknowledgment, watching the morning light spill across the sea over the cliffs in the distance. In a few weeks, the Baryshev Bratva will control New York's underworld. My father died dreaming of this.
I should feel triumphant.
This victory that once meant everything now seems insignificant. Four weeks with Indigo have shifted something fundamental inside me.