The bedroom door creaked open, and I snatched the dress from the counter. Before I could slip it on, the bathroom door swung wide. My breath hitched.
Rodion stepped inside without knocking, a first-aid kit in his grip. I shrank back against the tiles, clutching the dress across my chest, water dripping down my arms.
He moved past me without a word, set the kit on the edge of the sink, and snapped it open. He laid out its contents like a soldier preparing his weapon without glancing at me. I stood there, shivering, skin still wet. If he had walked in a minute earlier, he would have seen me with nothing at all to hide behind.
Chapter Twenty-six
Alessia
I flinched when Rodion turnedto me, holding a cotton pad soaked with antiseptic. When he pressed it against my skin, I winced, a sharp pain shooting through my face.
Rodion didn’t pause. His touch was rough, like everything else he did. He did it with cold, almost clinical care. I kept my eyes anywhere but on his face, but his breath warmed my skin. He hooked a finger under my chin, tipping my face up to hold it steady as he cleaned the wound.
When he stopped, I looked at him, breathing through the sting. He turned back to the kit and grabbed a band-aid. Tearing it open, he returned to me and applied it to my cheek.
As his thumb smoothed over the tape, I asked, “Is my father in danger?” His eyes drifted to mine and held for a moment. Without answering me, he closed the kit and shoved it into thecabinet under the sink like he was done with me. “Marco told me everything. Does my father know who Luigi is?”
Rodion’s hand stalled over the door of the cabinet as he looked at me. “Does he?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was the reason I got caught in all of this. Marco said he wanted Luigi’s information through my father because he works in a bank where Luigi had some savings.” Rodion stared quietly. “My father is just a manager.”
He closed the cabinet with a firm push and spoke. “Go to bed.”
When he turned to leave, I saw a pistol tucked into the waistband of his pants. I spoke without thinking. “If you’re going to take me back to Leonid,” I said, “it’s better you just kill me with that gun.”
He stopped, scoffed, and turned halfway toward me. “You think I can’t?”
“I know you can. But why? Why send me to that old man? You knew he wanted a child. You knew I would have to marry his son after that. Why would you do that?”
“A deal,” he declared. “Next time, be careful when making one with me.”
My voice tore out of me, raw and shaking. “I was drunk. I don’t even remember a damn thing and you made a deal with me like that?” Heat burned in my chest. “Tell me, did I agree to marry someone? Did I?”
He stared at me for a long second, and walked back to me. His hand reached up and brushed my cheek again. I flinched and turned away from his touch.
“I told you what you are. A little gem, clueless and easy to win. And you smiled at that. That’s who you are, Little Gem.” He stepped back. “Now, go to sleep before this conversation goes somewhere you would regret.”
He turned and left, closing the door behind him with a sharpfinality. I stood there in the silence that followed.
After a moment, I went to bed.
Sleep failed to come. I curled under the blanket and stared at the ceiling, running my fingers over the fabric as if it held answers. My mind couldn’t shut down. I turned onto my side, then my back again, the sheets rustling with every restless movement. When sleep finally found me, it wasn’t peaceful, but chaotic. It was a stream of broken dreams and memories that kept tearing me awake.
At one point, I opened my eyes and saw Rodion. He sat on a sofa in the corner, bathed in the blue glow of a laptop screen. I blinked, wondering if I was dreaming, but before I could be sure, sleep pulled me under again.
When I woke up, the birds were chirping outside and morning light spilled through the edges of the curtains. I pushed the blanket away and sat up, rubbing my eyes. I glanced around the room, expecting Rodion to be there, but it was just me and the lingering scent of his cigarette in the air.
A deep voice came from beyond the hallway. Reality kicked in, and I straightened up. Would I be dragged somewhere else? A part of me didn’t mind staying here.
I stepped out of the room and followed the voice, half expecting it to be Matvet because Rodion never spoke that much. But when I reached the sitting area, I froze. It was a new face. Not entirely unfamiliar because I saw him yesterday at the gas station. I turned to head back, instinct urging me to retreat.
“You might want to rethink that,” he said. “Come here, young lady.”
His tone wasn’t loud, but it was enough to stop me. I hesitated, still facing the hallway, unsure if he was talking on the phone or to me. When I faced him, he was watching me.
He stood with one hand inside his pocket, while the other lifted a glass of golden liquid to his mouth. He took a slow sip, his gazestill locked on me as if I were the one interrupting his morning. I swallowed.
He wasn’t old. Perhaps in his late twenties, but the way he carried himself made him seem intimidating. His hair was dark brown. The mustache was sharp and trimmed, shaped to precision like everything about him. His eyes were the same unsettling gray as Rodion’s, but Rodion’s were colder and more alert. His smile curled slightly, as if he enjoyed my hesitation.