"This was posted in our mail-box in the early hours," Mama says, coming into the kitchen and handing me a white envelope with my name scrawled on the front.

She takes Kir from me and heads off to find Olga. It's a routine we've gotten into since returning from Colorado a week ago. Mama visits every morning to spend time with her grandson, and with her new friend Olga, while I go up to the dance studio Gleb arranged to be installed for me in one of the spare bedrooms while we were away.

The carpet has been stripped from the floor to reveal dark hardwood; one of the long-sided walls is covered in mirrors and there's a ballet barre running its length. I love it and want to get started on my workout but stare at the envelope in my hand instead. I don't recognize the writing and something about the way EVA PETRENKO has been written in black upper-case ink chills my blood.

With dithery fingers, I tear it open to pull out a sheet of cream-colored paper. A message has been scrawled, and before I read it I glance at the signature.

Natasha.

What the hell?

You didn't show up for our lunch date, she writes.

My brows draw in; I'm sure we didn't get as far as arranging anything.

Meet me at Espresso Cafe this morning. She's even given the address. I'll expect you at eleven. Your mom is babysitting Kir, right? I will give you information that could save his life. Don't tell anyone until after we've met; we must keep this between the two of us for now. Come alone.

I tug at my hair and pace up and down the room. How does Natasha know about Kir? I wipe clammy hands down my leggings. I should call Gleb and tell him, I know I should, but he's reverted to beast mode and has been distant with me this past week, leaving early in the mornings and getting back so late at night the only time we spend together is just before we go to sleep.

It's like we've become strangers; he's so reticent. Cagey, even. Barely speaks to me except to give orders about what he wants me to do to him in bed. If I meet with Natasha and she tells me something Gleb could use to take Vadim down, it might make him see me in a different light. I'm pissed at him for treating me like a fuck-buddy; I was beginning to think I was more to him than that. He was starting to open himself up to me, sharing about his past. And this dance studio shows so much thought on his part, it took my breath when he brought me up here the afternoon we returned.

My insides tremble. Kir's life is in danger. I need to find out what Natasha meant by that statement. And yet... and yet, the sensible voice in my head is telling me to run this by Gleb first.

Fuck it, the coffee shop is a public place; I won't be at any risk. But how to ditch Dmitry? If I go anywhere he comes with me; he has orders not to let me out of his sight. I blow out an exasperated sigh. Since we got back from Beaver Creek, Gleb has been so paranoid he's even increased security at home. He's employed a new guy, Alik, who sticks to Kir like a Band-Aid when he goes out to play in the yard, even though either Mama or I are always with him.

I tap my chin. A sudden thought occurs to me, making me bounce on my toes. I exit the studio and with determined steps go to fetch my purse. I reach for the credit card Gleb gave me. I haven't used it yet; it will be the perfect ruse to get me out of the house.

An hour later, I'm in the fitting room of the fifth shop Dmitry and I have gone into at the Mall. No one batted an eyelid at Gleb's when, out of the blue, I announced my intention of doing some shopping... especially as I seemed happy for Gleb's boyevik to tag along with me. Dmitry is laden down with bags of clothes; I didn't intend to purchase so many, but I've been going from shop to shop hoping to find a separate way out of a fitting room.

Finally, I'm in the right place. Dmitry is sitting out front. I'll be able to slip out the back without him noticing. I grab my phone, call an Uber, and quickly head out of the store.

After weaving my way through shoppers and looking behind me every now and then to check I'm not being followed, I'm almost at the exit to the Mall when I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder.

My heartbeat races.

"Not so fast, Miss Petrenko," Dmitry's voice echoes in my ear, "haven't you forgotten something?"

I cross my arms. "I don't think so..."

"You're not supposed to go anywhere without me," he says calmly.

"Oh, yeah, that," I shrug, pretending nonchalance. "Sorry."

"Have you finished with your purchases?" his tone is polite.

I nod, my cheeks burning. "Yes. We can go home now." I take a couple of bags from him. "Please don't mention my slip-up to the Boss."

Dmitry stares at me like I've completely lost my mind. "I tell the Boss everything. It's my job."

Dammit, I'm such an idiot. I don't know what made me think I could pull this off. Cloak and dagger, my ass. Now I have no information to relate to Gleb about Natasha, he's going to be furious. There's nothing the Beast hates more than someone disobeying his orders.

Shoulders slumped, I follow Dimitry to where he's parked the Merc.

Later, I'm lying in bed, waiting for Gleb to come home. I spent the rest of the day with Kir. He took a nap after lunch, as per usual, and I sat and stared at my Kindle, my insides churning so much I was unable to read a word of what was on the screen.

My baby woke full of energy. It was a warm, late August afternoon, so I took him out to play in the yard. Alik, the new security guard, came with us. He stood sentinel by the perimeter, but I indicated for him to sit next to me on a bench. He's young, not much older than me, I guess. I asked him about himself; he divulged he's always lived in Fairwood, was born here, although his parents were originally from the Urals in Russia. Alik seemed shy for a boyevik; he gave the impression of being relieved when I left him alone and went to push Kir in the Little Tikes toddler car Gleb bought for him.

After giving Kir his supper and bathing him, I read him a bedtime story. "Where Papa?" he asked, and my heart skipped a beat.

"He'll be home soon," I bent and kissed my son's smooth forehead, then tucked him under his comforter.

With heavy steps I went to the living room to watch some TV, but my mind wasn't on it and I came upstairs early.

The Beast might be giving me the cold-shoulder for whatever reason, but it's not fair for him to ignore his son.

Hot tears roll from my eyes. I clutch at myself under the bed sheet, then sniff and wipe my nose.

I miss Gleb so much.

Finally, I hear his footsteps crossing the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep.

The mattress dips as he sits next to me. "Wake up, Eva." He switches on the light.

I open my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Midnight." He checks his watch.

I blink at him. "Where have you been?"

"At work. You know I run a night club and other businesses. I've had a lot of shit to attend to." He brushes the hair back from my face. "How was your day?"

"I went shopping," I admit.

"I heard." His voice is stern, and my stomach flutters. "Why did you try to give Dmitry the slip?"

There's no alternative; I've got to come clean. Taking shaky breaths, I tell Gleb about Natasha's note. How I didn't think it a risk to meet her in a public place.

He grabs my shoulders and squeezes hard. "Jesus, Eva. You have no idea. That woman is fucking crazy."

"Crazy?" I stutter.

My jaw drops as he tells me through gritted teeth how it was she who cut the intruder detection wire at his place in Colorado, how she was sneaking around on the pretext of contacting me, how she spun him a line about working for the Russians.

"She isn't working for them?" I shake my head, unable to take in the implications.

"I've been trying to touch base with my friend in Moscow the past several days. Eventually got hold of him a short while ago. He says the only Natasha he remembers is someone we met when we were at Harvard." Gleb's eyes lock with mine. "She was a girl we both shared a couple of times, a freshman whereas we were grad students."

My jaw drops again. "Is she the same woman?"

He creases his brow. "I can't be sure. It was too long ago. The Natasha we knew then had dark hair. Vadim's bitch's real name might not even be Natasha."

"Natasha is a fake blonde," I point out. "She could be the girl you once knew. But why would she be putting herself through all of this trouble if she just wanted to hook up with you again?"

"It doesn't make sense," he says gruffly. "What does make sense, Eva, is for you to stay away from her."

My nostrils flare. "You shouldn't have lied to me. If I'd known she was the intruder, I would never have considered going to meet her." My lips curl. "Even if she does know about Kir."

Gleb doesn't say a word. He glares at me and gets up from the bed. Turning his back, he undresses. I stare at his broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist. His buttocks are beautiful, strong and sturdy with dimples at the sides. My stomach flutters.

He lowers himself back down on the mattress and blows out a noisy breath. "You deliberately disobeyed me, Kiska. I had my reasons for keeping you in the dark. Yours and Kir's safety is paramount."

"I'm not a child." I steady my tone. "I'm the mother of your son. I know we're only living together temporarily, but I think you owe it to me to be honest."

"And you owe it to me to follow my rules." His eyes blaze. He reaches over and pulls me into his lap. "I need to fuck you, Elousha. Bury myself deep inside you."

Despite everything, I'm immediately wet for him. I should stand up to him, insist that we talk more before fucking, but I want him so desperately. "Promise you'll never lie to me again."

"Quid pro quo," he grunts. "You must promise to always follow my rules."

"Yes, Boss," I quip.

A laugh bubbles up from deep in his chest as he flips me over.

Goosebumps lift across my skin.