Page 131 of Lethal Torture
A moment later, the two of them are gone.
“Stop saying sorry.”I hand Ofelia another tissue and top up her glass of wine. Given the evening’s events, I figure that Ofelia getting a little messily drunk is the least dangerous option facing us both right now. “Nobody need know. Luke has left a message on Mickey’s phone saying we called after you got home and invited you out for a drink, and that you’re staying with me for the night. He’s also let Lars and Alexei know that is the story we’re going with, and I sincerely doubt either of them are about to contradict it. I’ve texted Darya with the same information. You’re in the clear, at least for now.”
Wrapped in one of my robes, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, and curled into the sofa in my Lowndes Square apartment, Ofelia looks both terribly young and utterly heartbroken.
“What about Papa?” she whispers, her eyes on mine. “Will you and Luke tell him the truth?”
Gah.
This is where it gets tricky.
“I guess that depends on you, Ofelia,” I say gently. “How about you tell me what that was all about tonight?”
“I don’t even know.” She takes a deep, juddering breath and wipes a hand over her face, turning the wineglass in her hands and staring blankly into its contents. “I don’t know why I thought tonight would be any different.”
“Between you and Alexei?” I probe gently, looking at her downturned face.
Her head bobs slowly up and down. “He doesn’t talk to me,” she whispers. “He won’t even look at me. Even when our families get together, he finds an excuse to be somewhere else.” She shakes her head. “I guess I just thought that if he saw me play, that maybe he’d realize how I feel. And that I’m not just some dumb kid anymore,” she ends dully.
I wince, remembering Lars’s throwaway line about getting the “kid” home.
I touch her shoulder. “Lars and Alexeiarea lot older than you. And much as I hate to point it out, Alexei is technically your uncle, if only by marriage.”
“Seven years isn’t that much older.” Ofelia sniffs, making her seem even younger than she actually is. “And Darya and I aren’t related in any way at all. I didn’t grow up with Alexei. He’s less my family than Luke is. Ew.” She screws up her face. “See, now thatwouldbe gross.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out into extremely inappropriate laughter at the thought of Luke being considered gross.
“No offense,” she adds hastily, glancing at me. “You two seemed pretty close tonight.” Her eyes narrow speculatively. “Actually, now that I think of it, why was Luke here, anyway?”
“He’s been working here for a while,” I say, dodging the question. “Training up my new security team.”
“Oh.” Ofelia’s interest dies as quickly as it flared. “That’s a pity. I kind of hoped you two might have gotten together. Luke deserves someone really nice, you know? He’d be an amazing father one day.”
Oh, I know.
Corrosive insecurity seizes my chest, hard enough to hurt.
“Yes,” I say softly. “He would.”
And I need to change the topic. Fast.
“Does anyone know that you’re in love with Alexei?” I ask quietly. “Does he?”
For a moment I think Ofelia might deny it. Then she drops her eyes, shaking her head tiredly. “Who could I possibly tell?”
“What about college friends? Or Abby?”
“Ha.” She laughs humorlessly. “My college friends have no idea who my family really are. They just think I’m some kind of privileged Russian princess, and I don’t contradict them. It’s easier that way. As for Abby...” She sighs. “I love her, I do. But she and Dimitry... they’re Darya and Papa’s closest friends. I couldn’t put her in that position.” She looks unhappily at me. “I shouldn’t be putting you in that position either, I guess. I know you and Papa work together.”
“Let’s forget about that for now.” It’s hard not to feel desperately sorry for her. “What about Alexei?” I ask again. “Does he know how you feel? Have you talked about it?”
“As if.” Ofelia shakes her head. “Alexei barely talks to me, let alone looks at me. But I know—I knowhe feels something,” she says fiercely. “I know it.” She gives me a slightly defiant look. “Even if he won’t admit it.”
Unfortunately, I’m almost certain she’s right.
I saw Alexei’s face during her performance. Saw the white knuckles of his hand gripping the seat of his chair, noticed the way he barely breathed throughout the entire piece.
Whatever Alexei Petrovsky feels for Ofelia, I’m willing to bet it’s not remotely fraternal.
