Page 20 of The Mistake

I waited for him to be finished and it didn’t take him long to have them on the tray. He took over and placed them in the oven.

“Are you a trained cook?”

“I’mnot trained but I know how to take care of myself.”

“Have you had to?”

Like my birth, there were a lot of rumors about Ivan Volkov. Many said he was the unwanted bastard son of the previous Bratva. They had tried to kill him, left him for dead. Others believed he was superhuman. Staring at him now, I had to wonder if the tale about him being kicked out, left for dead, and abandoned was more accurate. It made the most sense to me.

“We all have to learn to take care of ourselves, don’t you think?” he asked.

This made me nod.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Who taught you?” he asked.

“The cooking channel. School. You know, the usual.” I had forgotten how hard it could be. For a month I could pretend I was normal, that I didn’t have a past and I could forget everything I once was. One question and it all came rushing back.

I wanted to wrap my armsaround myself and put up a protective shield to keep the bad memories away, but what was the point? Nothing was ever going to stop them. They were part of who I was.

ChapterFive

Ive

I don’t know why Ivan insisted on coming to visit me and mywife. I’d not been back to my country home in just over a month. Stepping through the front door, I didn’t expect to see Hubert waiting for me. He was supposed to stay by Charlotte’s side whenever I was away. He reported to me daily as to how she was settling in. So far, she didn’t seem to be suffering with any kind of cabin fever and appeared to enjoy being kept at my home, without me for company.

I heard the soft laughter and it startled me. Was that Charlotte? I’d never heard her laugh. Fake laughing, hysterical, forced laughter, but not genuine laughter. This was a beautiful sound—real, pure, sweet—and I felt myself being pulled toward it.

I walked toward the dining room.Hubert took a step back, and I looked into the room to see Charlotte and Ivan sitting together at my large table. My wife had a hand covering her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh and even Ivan looked completely distracted as he told some kind of witty joke that caused him to distort his face, which sent Charlotte into another fit of hysterics.

I also happened to notice Charlotte had changed into a beautiful red dress. The kind that tightened around her tits and waist, and flared out at the hips. Even with it showing a great deal of cleavage it still had a way of appearing elegant on her.

“Ah, I see your faithful husband has returned.”

His words caused the laughter to stop and Charlotte tilted her head toward my direction. She quickly scrambled to her feet, and rushed toward my side.

“Ive, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said.Her hands were clasped together and one quick look over her shoulder, and I knew Ivan was expecting something. I didn’t know what they’d been talking about, but I’d need to make sure these little visits were few and far between. I couldn’t help but wonder if Ivan had done this on purpose. To make sure my boss and my wife were not alone, I’d have to take Charlotte with me.

She put her hands on my shoulders, went onto her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. “It’s good of you to come home. Dinner won’t be long now.” There was a smile on her lips, but this time, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Ivan stood and held out his hand for me to shake. I took it without hesitation. His grip was tight and I couldn’t help but feel like he was warning me.

I helped my wife into a chair before rounding the table and taking a seat opposite her, seeing as Ivan had taken the head of the table. This was my house, and the head of the table should be my seat. Silence descended on the table. Charlotte kept her gaze averted from mine.

“When did you arrive?” I asked, turning toward Ivan.

“This afternoon. Your lovely wife had taken over Michael’s kitchen and was in the process of making some delicious biscuits. You’re going to have to try them.”

“Yours are delicious, mine are…”

“Homemade, sweetheart,” Ivan said.

“You’ll have to show me how you get them so uniform,” Charlotte said.

“You baked?” I turned to Charlotte but was more curious to hear that Ivan could bake as well. This was news to me. I knew he was a man of many skills and talents. He’d survived a great deal in his life.

Even though he and I went way back, I knew he also had history with Slavik, Andrei, Victor, and Peter. Each of us had a tale that involved Ivan Volkov. Our stories connected in all different ways. Oleg had always been the odd one out. From what I had learned, Slavik had been with him first, in the beginning when they were kids. I didn’t meet Ivan until my early twenties.

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