Page 18 of Sinner's Obsession

“Unfortunately, no. My father was… not a good man. He liked to drink and was often violent—to my mother in particular. And me when I tried to stop him. No, the most meaningful gift he gave me was his death. Though I suppose that did change my life significantly. My mother could not support me and my brothers on her own, and as the oldest, it was my duty to become the man of the house after he died.”

His deep baritone is dark and quiet, holding a gravity that raises the hair on the back of my neck. But I don’t dare speak for fear that he might not finish his story. It clearly pains him to talk about his past.

“The Matron Veles saved my family. She offered my mother a generous sum to bring me to America. At age sixteen, I was able to help my family rise from poverty. The Matron provided me with food, shelter, and a job to protect her son. She gave me a good income—enough that I could send money back to Moscow to support my brothers through school. Now they are grown with families of their own.” He falls silent, his eyes drifting toward the water as if he’s lost in a memory.

“Wow,” I breathe, scarcely daring to make a sound. I don’t know what to say.

He’s said so much in so few words, and suddenly, I’m intensely aware of how different our backgrounds must be. I grew up in a safe home, where my parents provided me with everything I might ever want or need.

Efrem, on the other hand, spent his childhood protecting his mother and working to provide for his family. It breaks my heart to think of a young Efrem trying to stand between his drunk father, intent on hurting his mother.

“How… how did your father die?” I ask tentatively, my heart fluttering. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Fathomless blue eyes turn back to me, and he shakes his head. “Maybe someday I will tell you. But perhaps we can talk about something less… heavy for tonight.”

I nod and am grateful for the food that arrives just in time to divert the conversation.

Talking to Efrem proves shockingly easy. His interest in my life andmyinterests keep me rambling far more than I ever thought possible. And I find his humor both subtle and sharp.

By the time we’re looking at a dessert menu, I can hardly believe how quickly the time has flown, and I find that beyond his ridiculously handsome face and impressively muscled figure, Efrem does not lack depth.

To top it off, the rare question he’s asked about my father’s job and the upcoming election has focused entirely on howIfeel about it and whatmythoughts are. He doesn’t even brush on my father’s policies or agendas. Silvia’s one of the few people I know who I’m completely confident likes me for who I am, and now, I almost dare to believe Efrem might too.

At the end of dinner, as we rise from our chairs, my stomach feels fit to burst after the seventeen-layer chocolate cake we shared. But I don’t want the night to end. Biting my lip, I try to keep my cool as Efrem’s hand finds the small of my back once more. The warmth of his palm seeps through the delicate fabric of my dress, burning into my flesh like a brand. And it lights my body on fire.

“Would you care to walk with me a bit longer before I take you home?” he offers as we step out onto the bustling city street.

Relief floods me at the suggestion, and I smile. “That sounds nice.”

The cool night air whispers across my skin as he gestures for me to lead the way. It’s an easy jaunt down to the riverwalk along the East River Greenway. The city skyline is in full form now, its reflection perfectly mirrored in the water below. From this vantage point, the Brooklyn Bridge looks particularly picturesque, creating an impressively romantic atmosphere.

A brisk breeze pulls moisture from the water’s surface and whips through my hair as it sends goosebumps racing up my arms. But before I have a chance to get cold, Efrem shrugs out of his suit coat and drapes it over my shoulders.

The heavenly scent of his masculine cologne fills my nose, and I subtly pull the jacket closer to my face to pinpoint the notes of bergamot, leather, and pine.

“Thank you,” I murmur, my cheeks warming from the gentlemanly gesture.

Though not yet thirty, Efrem has proven above and beyond both classy and mature compared to the guys I meet at school or the clubs, and I find myself drawn to his effortless charm, his constant, watchful consideration.

He might cut an intimidating figure, but I feel safer and more cared for than I’ve ever experienced on a date before. I wonder if that has to do with our age difference or if it’s just Efrem. Something tells me it’s the latter.

“You are not too cold?” Efrem asks as I hold the corners of his jacket closed in front of me, wearing it like a cloak.

“No, I’m fine. This is nice.”

Our fingers brush accidentally, and a jolt of excitement licks through me like lightning. I suppress my shiver, knowing he won’t believe I’m warm enough if he sees it.

“Now that Pyotr has taken over Veles Transportation, do you see yourself getting a promotion anytime soon?” I ask, curious about what Efrem sees for his future and where his life might lead.

“How do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. Being chief of security or director of operations, some big, fancy title like that.”

Efrem chuckles. “I am already chief of security, in a way. We do not hire anyone new without me vetting them properly first. And Val and I train any new recruits.”

“Oh.” I suddenly hope my question wasn’t rude or presumptuous.

He doesn’t seem to take it that way, though, as he finishes his answer. “But no. I do not wish for a promotion or a different job. I owe my life to the Veles family, and I see no higher honor than protecting their lives with my own.”

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