Mnye pizdets!
Outside, the cold Chicago air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, clawing back my sanity. I grip, tooth and nail, to the sliver of mental clarity I have left. I’m going to find Shkodra, destroy him and everyone working for him, and leave Chicago.
I’m not getting involved with Sera. I can’t want her, not even a little.
Thank God I’ve moved us to an estate so big we’ll never have to see each other.
15
SERA
Dimitri has moved me to a mansion. A sprawling hunk of stone and marble perched on the edge of Lake Michigan.
I can’t stop gaping as Alik’s henchman leads me up a flight of stairs and down a seemingly endless hallway to my room. Sorry—rooms.
“Get settled, Miss Sera,” he says. “Your things will be here shortly. The cook will deliver your meals whenever you’re hungry, just call down on the house phone.” Dimitri points at a delicate white and gold old-fashioned rotary phone on the table near the door.
“And, as promised.” He holds out my gun, giving an appreciative nod when I take it from him with a practiced grip. Then, satisfied with having done his duty, the bald giant leaves.
More than a little confused, I watch Dimitri vanish down the main hallway before I turn to inspect the luscious space. I’m standing in a small marble-floored foyer with a series of rooms fanning out in front of me. The central and largest is the living room, full of plush furniture, colorful throw pillows andblankets, and a wood-burning fireplace so large I could sleep in it.
Off to the right is what looks like a combined kitchen/dining room, complete with French cafe-style dining table and chairs and a stove with more dials than can possibly be necessary. On the left of the living space is a bedroom dominated by a massive four-poster bed and double doors that lead into what is, no doubt, the largest bathroom I’ve ever seen.
In the bedroom, I get an odd flutter in my stomach when I see the fairy lights draped artfully over the top of the bed. They’re gorgeous, twinkling, and far more professionally done than the ones Dr. Ruiz was so thoughtful to tack up in the apartment.
I wonder if she told Alik why I needed them, or if he realized on his own why I can’t be alone in the dark. The longer I think about it, the worse the fluttering in my stomach gets. Unsettled, I force my attention away from the lights and back to my surroundings.
Whoever designed the suite was clever because every window has a view of the lake, and every room except the bathroom has doors leading to the balcony that runs along the rear of the house. The size of the suite rivals that of the apartment we just left, yet everything feels so much softer, cozier.
“Safer,” I whisper, like I can hide away here for as long as I like. Or as long as Alik allows.
The last thought knocks me from my fanciful cloud, and I came hurtling down to reality with a thud.
This space is huge, gorgeous, and still entirely Alik’s domain. I might’ve been wide-eyed with wonder when we arrived, but I didn’t miss the veritable army of men staked throughout the grounds and house. This killer view of the lake comes with heavily armed guards standing between me and every exit. All of whom report to a man I find more confusing by the day.
Just thinking about Alik sends me into a whirligig of contradictory emotions; attraction, hatred, comfort, and anger turning my stomach sour within minutes. I haven’t slept enough, definitely haven’t eaten enough.
Thankfully, Dimitri wasn’t kidding about the cook. One call and fifteen minutes later a portly woman delivers a tray of steaming food to my room. She barely speaks, and what little she does say is in Russian. No sooner does she leave than I’m hit with a fresh wave of loneliness.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying and failing to fight off a chill. Then I remember the bathroom and the giant soaking tub. In addition to being large, the room is well-appointed. There’s even a teak stool that doubles perfectly as an impromptu picnic table.
It’s not long before I’m shoulder-deep in hot water and lush bubbles, testing the limits of my still-shaky stomach with my favorite comfort food: a cheeseburger and fries.
I’m several minutes into what might be the best soak of my life when a memory percolates up out of nowhere. Of me and Alik and a bathtub. Me trying to claw my way past unconsciousness and so much pain. Him washing away the blood and dirt so gently I could’ve cried. He was so solid behind me. Thick planes of muscle that made me feel safe despite being so vulnerable. His strength and heat so potent I swear I can feel him in the bath with me now.
“Cazzo!” I spring out of the tub. Water splashes everywhere, drowning what’s let of my meal, turning it to inedible mush. Dripping, I make a beeline for the bedroom closet, not even a little surprised when I find it stocked with comfy clothes that look vaguely my size.
I don’t know if Alik made the purchase or one of his minions, but these clothes are not meant to impress. From the matching joggers and sweatshirts, down to the basic cotton underwear and thick wool socks, it’s all soft and cozy. I’dappreciate the effort that’s gone into making me comfortable if I wasn’t so worked up.
Once dressed, I’m too restless to stay cooped up in my suite a second longer. I try the door handle, releasing an audible breath when it opens without resistance. Alik didn’t order Dimitri to lock me in. Maybe because the house is so big I couldn’t find an escape route even if I tried.
By the time I’ve gone up and down at least three different staircases, I’ve stumbled across two formal sitting rooms, a giant living room with one wall entirely taken up by a TV, a dining room that can seat thirty, a game room, a movie theater, a bunch of empty bedroom suites, what I’m pretty sure is an actual ballroom, and one locked door that, when I tested the handle, earned me a scolding in Russian from a big dude at the end of the hall.
Somewhere between that room and the fountain in the glass-ceilinged central courtyard, I discover another set of stairs leading to the basement.
It’s darker here, the air thicker, chilled by the moisture that can only come from being underground. I’m almost to the final step when I hesitate, afraid I’m about to willingly walk into a hellhole like the one in Rocco’s house.
No.There are no guards, no sounds of people screaming. No sour, metallic bite to the air.