Page 14 of Unforgiving Sinner (Starukhin Bratva)

“Personal commission? You’vemether?” I lower my voice to hide my excitement. “That’s so cool.” I cringe again as the words leave my mouth.

“Perhaps one day you might,” Nikolai muses. “You have a gift for finding meaning in things, Eden.”

“Thank you.” I blush slightly at his compliment. “I’m just glad to have a chance to talk about art. My dad doesn’t share the same interests as me.”

We stand there for a moment, simply taking in the painting in quiet contemplation. I can feel the pull between us growing stronger, and I know I’m not the only one.

Our conversation flows effortlessly from there, moving from art to the city. I’m careful not to reveal too much about myself, but I can’t help but be drawn to him. His charisma is intoxicating, and I find myself flirting with him more than I ever have withanyone before. I can’t help but let myself be swept away by the possibility of falling in love. Maybe not with him—he’s still a total stranger—but I want it to happen one day.

Nikolai is nothing like the high school boys I know, and I feel embarrassed for being so eager when Trevor’s hands were groping me at the party. I inhale as discreetly as I can when he looks away for a moment.

In New York, I can create myself, just like a work of art.

“There’s something about Kaori’s art that transports a person into another world,” I say breathlessly as we finally walk away from the painting and move on through the gallery. “I’d love to be in her world, even for a moment.”

Nikolai nods as he smiles knowingly and leads me over to a self-portrait of Kaori. The soft brushstrokes bring to life her features, and her eyes seem to follow us as we approach.

“She captures the essence of her subjects with minimal lines.” Nikolai focuses on the painting. “That is very talented.”

I find myself stealing glances at Nikolai as he talks, admiring his effortless cool and how his dark hair falls over his forehead. Each time he catches me looking, he smiles at me playfully. And each time he does that, it causes my cheeks to burn.

There’s something about him that makes me feel understood and heard. And the fact that he’s so good-looking makes it that much easier.

But I can see something else on his face. There’s a familiar haunted look nibbling at the corners of his eyes, and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s a look that I’ve seen so many times with Dad.

“She should paint a portrait of you,” I giggle. “I would come here every day.”

His eyes search mine. “I can say the same about you.”

I turn away, blushing, as my heart leaps in joy at his words.

I turn and catch a glimpse of the ornate clock on the wall, suddenly shocked at how late it is. Outside, the sun has already set without me realizing. Crap! Mercy will be expecting me.

“I should get going,” I reply, aware I’m monopolizing his time. “It was really nice meeting you, Nikolai.”

He steps closer. “Let me give you a ride.”

“Really, you don’t have to,” I back away. I’m touched by Nikolai’s concern, but I’m unwilling to impose further.

“I insist,” Nikolai says, his voice brooking no argument.

I can’t help but think that maybe he has a point. So, I nod, unable to turn him down as he walks me out to the curb.

A black limo suddenly pulls up to the curb, and an alarm goes off in my head. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the familiar haunted look at the corners of his eyes. In fact, this entire moment feels a littletoofamiliar. His grip on my hand tightens, and the determination in his eyes makes me feel apprehensive.

I may be sheltered, but I’m not dumb. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to get inside the limo of a stranger like Nikolai—even if he is too good-looking for his own good.

“I can walk.” My voice wavers as I try to pull my hand away from him, but to no avail. “Or take the subway.”

“Eden, it’s getting late.” His voice is iron-hard now. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

A man as tall and built as Nikolai steps out of the car from the driver’s side. He’s dressed in a black suit and wearing driving gloves. His short blond hair is tucked under a chauffeur’s cap. His cold blue eyes lock on me as he steps forward and opens the passenger door.

“No, really.” I attempt to sound firm, even a little rude, but it does nothing to loosen his grip on my hand.

“You’re coming with me.” His grip tightens more, and fear starts choking at my insides. “End of discussion.”

“No, I’m not,” I protest. I can’t believe how quickly things took a dark turn. I thought he was one of the good ones. Not whatever the hellthisis.

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