cameras he has in his office.
He pockets the phone and returns to me with a completely different demeanor than only a moment ago. This is Alexei, the Vor.
“There is nothing to be concerned about,” he tells me in a calm voice. “But we have an unexpected guest. I’m going to see what he wants.”
He kisses me on the cheek and grips my chin. “I am locking the door behind me.”
I nod, but I’m curious who is here. And I don’t really want him to go. But I know that he has to. He moves to his closet and grabs his holster and gun, shrugging it on before he locks the door behind him.
And I wait. Moving towards the window to see if I can get a glimpse of anything from up here.
There’s a car parked in front of the house. Franco is already outside, and it looks like he’s arguing with someone. But it’s too dark to see what’s going on.
So I walk around Alexei’s room and examine his things to keep my mind occupied. The furnishings are sturdy and well made. In his closet, I find much of the same as he always wears. An assortment of gray and black trousers, sweaters, button downs, and suede jackets. At least five pairs of oxfords, and several different flat caps.
The man finds something he likes and sticks with it.
I bring one of his undershirts that is draped over the cupboard to my nose and inhale. It smells of him. Oak and cloves. I have an urge to take off my dress and put it on. But with the unexpected company downstairs, I decide to wait.
Which turns out for the best. Because a few moments later, I hear voices in the outside hall. On the same floor. One of the accents is familiar and unmistakably Irish. It makes me curious, but I can’t peek outside.
So I wait. And walk around the room some more. On Alexei’s dresser, I find a cracked chess piece. I’ve often seen him playing with it in his office when he is contemplating something. Staring at it as he moves his fingers over the ridges. It is old. And no doubt it holds some sort of memory for him.
I wonder what it is.
The door opens, and I quickly set it aside. Alexei’s eyes find mine, and he steps inside.
“No need to worry, my sweet. It is an acquaintance. He is wounded, but Franco is tending to him. I will be as well.”
“Okay.”
“You should get some sleep,” he tells me. “Keep the bed warm for me.”
I nod, and he comes to kiss me on the lips again. It confuses me, how he can be so sweet. So thoughtful at times. How he can look at me the way he is right now. Like he doesn’t want to leave.
“I want you naked,” he tells me. “When I return.”
“I thought you said to get some sleep.” I smile up at him.
“I will wake you.” He shrugs. “You’ll have plenty of sleep until then. Now I must go, Solnyshko.”
He kisses me again and then leaves. I wait until his footsteps have retreated down the hall, and then I peek through the door. And I am surprised to see two familiar faces here.
Sasha and Rory.
One of the men from the Irish syndicate who owned the club I worked at. And one of the dancers too. It seems odd to me that they are here. And I feel the strangest pull to go to them. To inquire about Mack.
But my fear keeps me rooted in place.
In my head, I tell myself that she is happy now. That she is better off. That she would never in a million years be able to accept what I’ve done. Even if she herself married the man she swore was an awful human based solely on her judgment of his reputation.
I want to know why she married him. If she has changed so radically since I knew her. If she is okay. And if she is genuinely happy.
But I am terrified to let her see me.
She will see right through my act. She will tell me the hard truths as she always does. That Alexei does not love me and he never will. That I am stupid for allowing myself to carry his child.
She will judge me.
And as much as I love Mack, I cannot handle that right now.
It is while I am lost in these thoughts that the door shuts down the hall, and I realize too