“Maybe when you’re older,” he says solemnly. He sets the book down on the nightstand and flicks off the light. “For now, you have to go to bed. No nightmares tonight.”
Matvei turns around. As he does, his eyes meet mine. I swear my heart stops. Quickly, I hide behind the corner, kicking myself for eavesdropping for so long.
A moment later, Matvei closes the door and turns to face me. “You shouldn’t be spying.”
“I’m sorry. I just came down to read and saw that you were already reading him a bedtime story. He really likes that one.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what it is about him and the knife. Is that … should I be worried?”
Matvei shakes his head. “Just keep an eye on him. He’s been getting into my desk often. Takes my knife and opens and closes it like it’s a toy.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t find it,” I promise.
“Good.” Matvei seems uncomfortable, probably because I’ve caught him at such a vulnerable moment.
“I should be going to bed,” I say, my voice quiet.
Matvei’s eyes roam up and down my body, pausing on my chest just a moment too long. I cross my arms and slouch, shooting daggers in my gaze. He only smirks back at me, not an ounce of remorse in sight.
“Yes,” he whispers, reaching forward and delicately adjusting the shoulder strap on my cami. I feel naked and vulnerable in front of him. My heart thuds in my chest. “We should both be getting to bed.”
Just like that, Matvei leaves me standing in the hall once more, wringing my hands and biting down on my bottom lip. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me, but the part of me that wishes he would’ve slipped the strap off my shoulder instead of back on is getting louder and louder. I need to get it together.
This is a job. Niko and I are captives. Matvei is a criminal.
Before I give myself another moment to fantasize about him, I hurry back up to my room and close the door for the night.
11
Victoria
I miss my dad. I didn’t think that would be the one problem with this arrangement that hit me the hardest, but everything here feels so lonely. So cold and remote.
I thought I liked order, a place for everything and everything in its place. But this house is that on steroids. Every surface is gleaming clean, not a speck of dust. The floors are empty, the walls mostly clear. Even the furniture looks kind of foreboding. Sharp edges, ultra-modern, hardly a speck of color no matter how hard I look.
It’s Matvei personified.
But just like him, the home is beautiful in that frigid kind of way. So when I put Niko down for naps, I find myself exploring. There’s always something new to find. Just yesterday, I discovered the small collection of first-edition Jane Austen books that he has. Something tells me the boss of the most dangerous mob family in the city hasn’t spent time in here reading romance novels, but I still find it funny that he owns them. God only knows how much they’re worth.
I seize the opportunity to sneak off back to the library and flip through Pride and Prejudice. I remember reading it for the first time when I was barely a teenager.
The world seemed like such an innocent place back then. Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy. So pure. So hopeful.
I was pure and hopeful then, too.
Their banter and constant battle of wits has to be my favorite part. They tear into each other again and again, but it’s because they’re both strong-willed and refuse to let the other best them. It’s the classic case of enemies becoming lovers, and it makes my heart swoon every time.
I try to get through as much as I can, handling each page with careful fingers, before Nikolas wakes up. When I hear his door open down the hall, I leave a sheet of paper in the pages and return it to the shelf, hurrying to get him ready for the day.
Nikolas still doesn’t say much most days. I still feel inexplicably sad when I see him, how serious he is all the time. I don’t know whether to chalk it up to maternal instincts or something more sinister; I just know that he doesn’t have the pep and sparkle I’d expect from a boy his age.
Again and again, I force myself not to think about