who would have probably had unprotected sex with Ronan on the first date if he’d asked.
I thought he was so busy reporting posts on Instagram he didn’t notice her painfully obvious interest—that is, until his eyes lifted from his phone, caught mine, and flickered with devious amusement.
Ugh.
“Mogu ya predlozhit’ vam chto-nibud’ yeshche?” the maid asked Ronan in a sultry voice. I didn’t need to know Russian to understand she’d just questioned if she could “tempt” him with anything else.
I hated blondes.
With Ronan’s eyes on mine, it couldn’t be clearer he was enjoying every second of this before saying, “Nyet.”
The maid followed his stare to me and finally recognized someone other than Ronan was in the room. She reduced me down to one fell swoop of her eyes. Evidently, my unmanageable hair and floral embroidered shorts romper didn’t exactly scream competition. I bristled at her perusal, but she was already carrying her tray out of the room, casting Ronan a longing glance on the way.
I usually had high respect for blue-collar workers, but that one . . . What a peasant.
“What happened to the other girl?” I asked.
Ronan gave me a look that said it was none of my business. At the thought the quiet servant could have had something to do with poisoning me, my stomach tightened. Ronan killing murderous mobsters was one thing; a meek servant girl, another.
“You didn’t . . . do anything to her, did you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Nyet.”
I guessed that word was all he was going to say this morning. He was becoming worse company than Khaos. The German shepherd growled at me every time I spoke to him and avoided my presence like I was the one who had fleas. I should stop disrupting the animal’s peace, but something behind his tough demeanor felt so lonely it pulled at my own outcast heartstrings. I refused to give up on him.
Even though Albert told me the kitchen was monitored closely now and that my food wouldn’t be salted with poison again, I was still hesitant to eat anything and had survived on Yulia’s crumbs for the past two days. The hesitance was due to the fact Ronan didn’t say a word to reassure me. Considering all his demands I should eat since we met, his silence now made me feel like he didn’t care. Maybe I was being dramatic, but since I’d already started down the path, I was going to own it until the end.
I put on a show of meticulously smearing a piece of toast with the vegan butter Polina made for me, though I couldn’t help but believe Ronan noticed the only thing I was truly ingesting was water. He had nothing to say about it.
As he sipped his tea, the silence sent an uneasy energy through me. I wanted him to say something, anything, to disperse the tension in the room—another “nyet,” a demeaning “pet,” or even a crass comment.
I was taking a drink of water when the front door slammed shut. A familiar masculine voice reached me. It took a few seconds to recognize it, and when I did, the crystal glass slipped from my fingers, hit the edge of the table, and the faraway sounds of tink, tink, tink fell to the floor.
Heart in my throat, I shot to my feet.
“Sit down.”
I barely heard Ronan’s command over the rush of blood in my ears. My mind told me to listen, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. All I could do was stare at Ivan as he stepped into the dining room—at the blood on his ripped dress shirt, at his bruised face, and at his hands tied behind his back. The sight of him was so welcome tears burned the backs of my eyes, but the reality of his presence twisted a knife in my gut.
Albert and Viktor stood on either side of Ivan, each restraining him by an arm. The three of them looked awful: cut lips, bruised eyes, and bloody clothes. Albert bled profusely from his side, which soaked his white button-up.
Ivan’s cool gaze found me and softened with relief before it slid down my body to inspect for injuries, but the only wounded ones were the men in the doorway. My empty stomach roiled at the thought Ivan was trying to rescue me from D’yavol’s hands while I was embracing the heat those same hands left behind.
“Ty v poryadke?” Ivan asked me. Are you okay?
Throat too tight to speak, I nodded.
“Mila,” Ronan said in an ominous tone. “Sit