Page 49 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

I trail off. I’m not sure I want to know if and when Gavril is deciding to grace me with his presence. On one hand, it would take the knot of anxiety out of my back, knowing that he’s indisposed or away. On the other, if he is coming soon, I may be better off not knowing, so I don’t jump at every creak in the floor I hear.

Ludmil is already leading me away though. “The dining room is just this way.”

This time, I make a point of checking out my surroundings. It’s more Italian, old-style glamor. We could be in the house of the Count of Monte Cristo for all I know. Every side lamp is a work of art, every vase has a perfectly chosen sprig of subdued flowers inside. Many of the wooden walls themselves have floor-to-ceiling frescos, one that looks like a Rembrandt. I make a mental note to ask Gavril about that one.

Then, all at once, we’re there. It’s a room with high ceilings, the walls crowded with fancy oil portraits with judgy eyes.

And, more importantly, a plate loaded with yummy-looking food.

I feel myself salivating like a dog. This is going to be good. Really, freaking good. I can tell.

Ludmil leaves after lingering with some random comments that I barely acknowledge. The second he’s gone, I go at it with a ferocity that my weirdly tiny fork and golden knife can’t temper.

Good God, it’s glorious: hunks of juicy flank steak, two roasted garlic fingerling potatoes at a time, every Brussel sprout I can stab onto my fork.

Mouthful after mouthful after delicious steaming mouthful. It’s so insanely delicious, I can think of nothing else but stabbing more onto my fork, more and—

At some point, I realize I’m being watched.

“Don’t stop on account of me.” Gavril Vaknin’s voice is light, his handsome face amused. “I’ve just never seen anyone enjoy my food quite so much.”

I nearly choke.Joy, you pig!

I swallow my last huge mouthful with difficulty, then put my fork down. I’m almost done anyway, and facing down Gavril is going to take all my concentration and then some. Especially if I’m going to figure out how to worm out of here.

But Gavril’s gaze says it all. This is the price already exacted. This is what Gavril Vaknin wants.

He wants to own me.

I shake off the weird, intense thought.He’s just offered you some help, you psycho. Chill out.

“So.” He’s closing the distance between us, step by step. “You came.”

“Things got bad,” I say simply.

His lip corners quirk as if I’ve said something funny. “I would’ve thought they were bad already.”

I ignore that and look away. If he thinks he can catch me with those eyes of his, that look …

“I think I scared your neighbors,” I say to change the subject.

He chuckles, a loud, rich sound. “Not as much as I do. Trust me.”

Be careful of that one … he’s a dangerous man. A bad, dangerous man,the old woman at the pizza giveaway said.

I can sense how right she was. But dammit, if he doesn’t look hot as hell in that suit he’s wearing. It looks tailored to fit his powerful, V-shaped body.

Something’s buzzing between my legs.

“Why did you leave the money behind, if things are so bad?” he’s asking now.

“I don’t know.” I glare at him, daring him to chuckle again, to point out the obvious. But then, I blurt out, “I’m not some charity case.”

No, I’m just a delusional hypocrite. Showing up here a dirty mess for a bath and food—if that isn’t begging for charity, then what is?

He says nothing to that, only nods with an expression that, weirdly enough, seems pleased. He turns on his heel. “As for scaring the neighbors, there may be something we can do about that …” He swings a look at me.

I stiffen.

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