"Take care, brother," I say, and hang up.
I set the phone on the table, and then I hear a soft creak of a floorboard behind me.
I turn to see Elena standing there, smiling. The smile that's uniquely hers.
And for a moment, the heavy mafia business mindset that's been consuming me since Victor left evaporates completely, and all I see is her.
The beautiful woman walking toward me. The woman I thought I'd lost forever. The woman I will burn the world down to protect.
She moves closer, and I push the chair back, making room for her.
"Hey," she says, her voice still rough with sleep.
"Hey," I say, my throat tight.
She stops in front of me, her gaze flicking to the phone on the table, then back to my face.
"You okay?" she asks.
I nod, reaching for her hand. "Yeah. I'm okay."
She lets me pull her closer, and I wrap my arms around her waist.
For a moment, we just stay like that, and it's peaceful.
"Victor was here," I say after a moment, pulling back to look up at her. "He brought supplies. Said we're getting out of here soon."
Elena's eyes widen slightly. "Really?"
"Yeah," I say. "A day, maybe less, hopefully. Then we're going home."
She exhales, and I see the relief wash over her face.
"Good," she whispers. "I want to go home."
I squeeze her waist gently, and she looks down at me, her fingers brushing through my hair.
"So, does that mean we have the place to ourselves?" she asks with a smile.
I look around. "Yep."
"Perfect," she says, and takes both my hands and puts them on her breasts.
"Fuck me."
24
ELENA
Iwake from a dream, an actual dream, not a nightmare. Adrian was giving me a back massage in my small one bedroom apartment in Bucharest. The one he paid the rent on for the whole year and then never let me stay there since I belonged in Bra?ov because it "matched my beauty."
His hands were moving down my body and I think I may have spread my legs a bit. I laugh, the memory flooding my body with heat. I press my thighs together, feeling the results of my little wet dream.
I rub my eyes and look to the empty side where Adrian had been lying.
Then I turn my face into the pillow, pressing my nose into the fabric, and I breathe him in.
Adrian's scent is all over the pillow, the sheets, the air around me. It's something I've known forever, something that made my stomach flip every time he walked into a room.