37
After lunch, I sat on the edge of the leather sofa in the office, wanting to chew at my nails as Vasilije listened to my music pour from the computer speakers. Our music, really.
I felt like I’d swallowed a bag of nails, and with every expression that crossed his face, the nails scratched at my insides. I’d listened to the movements so many times, I could no longer tell if they were good or not, and I wasn’t going to throw around the word masterpiece, but I was proud of the work.
He listened to the entire thing without saying a word, his gaze out the window, watching the wind kick up snowdrifts in the front yard. A line creased between his eyebrows when he took in the third song, the scherzo. It was the frantic one I’d written in triple time, and was about how I viewed holding back my secret from him. But the crease went away and his lips hinted a smile when he listened to the final piece, which tied the movements together and built to a bombastic finish.
Vasilije went through a series of clicks with the mouse, then picked up his cell when it chimed. He’d transferred the file to his phone.
I couldn’t wait any longer. “Any notes?”
He sat back in the chair and tented his fingers, savoring my uncomfortable state. “I don’t know about that one in the middle.”
I let out a slow breath, trying to be patient. Like any artist, receiving a few words of feedback could be uplifting, or crushing.
“Otherwise,” he added, “it’s really fucking good. I like it.”
I collapsed back against the couch, letting relief swell through me.
Before I could say anything in response, Luka stepped into the office. “I’m going to borrow a car. I’m taking Addison to her aunt’s house in Joliet for a Christmas dinner thing.”
Vasilije stood and pocketed his phone. “Keys are in the drawer like usual.”
“Thanks.” Luka paused, hovering awkwardly. “What you asked me to do . . . it’s done now. I had him sign the final paperwork last night.”
Vasilije’s smile was wider than I’d ever seen, and I understood. I felt the same rush of excitement he did. Luka’s role in all of this made it so much sweeter.
“Awesome,” Vasilije said. “You think he has any idea?”
“Not a fucking clue.”
Luka didn’t have a smile like his younger brother’s. There were no dimples, and when his lips pulled back, it wasn’t as infectious. Instead, it gave me the same sense of impending danger as Goran’s smile did, only the danger wasn’t directed at me.
Luka sobered into his serious expression. “Be careful.”
“Yeah, I will be.” Vasilije glanced at me, and his face gave nothing away. He didn’t look nervous at all, and I wished I had his same sense of confidence.
Luka and Addison left soon after, and as the clock ticked closer to dinnertime, my stomach bottomed out. I didn’t eat anything, but Vasilije stayed quiet about that. He gazed at me across the kitchen table, his plate empty and mine untouched.
“You want me to go down on you?” he asked casually, between two sips of his beer.
I couldn’t process his question. “What?”
“You’re so tense.”
Of course I was tense. “Everything we’ve been planning is happening tonight.”
“Don’t worry, baby.” He faked bravado. “I’m going to make all our dreams come true.”
I was so high-strung, the ridiculous laugh tumbled from my mouth. “Except our dreams are other people’s nightmares.”
He grinned ear to ear.
♪
Rock salt crunched under my shoes as I climbed the front steps of Goran’s house. It seemed so different than it had yesterday. The large portico awning with columns was like a mouth stretching open, waiting to devour me.
Filip looked at me as if needing my approval, and when I nodded, he opened the door and ushered me inside.
The only light in the main room came from the gaudy, gold Christmas tree, and a fire that crackled in the fireplace. It took me a moment to adjust my eyesight to the dim lighting, and I didn’t notice Goran until he got up off the couch.
“Oksana,” he said. “Please, come in. Let Filip take your coat.”
I hated him for a lot of reasons, but in this moment, I hated how he’d made my name a weapon, picking and choosing when to use it. He sauntered toward me, wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled back and a pair of dress slacks, and I wondered if this was as casual as he got. Like last night, he had a glass in hand. Bourbon? Scotch? It’d be some adult-tasting liquor I’d hate.
As I slid off my coat and passed it to Filip, I kept my eyes glued on Goran. “Merry Christmas.”
Something like victory flared in his eyes. “Did Vasilije give you any trouble?”
I shook my head slowly. I didn’t want to speak unless I absolutely had to, worried my nerves would seep into my voice.
“Good. Do you mind holding out your arms for me?”
My breath caught. “What?”
He set his drink down on a side table. “It’s just a precaution.”
“I already searched her,” Filip said.
It drew an annoyed look from his boss. “No harm in being thorough,” Goran said. He just wanted an excuse to put his hands on me, and as he waited impatiently for me to move, my stomach flipped upside-down. I wasn’t going to be able to avoid it.
I trembled as I lifted my arms and shut my eyes, but otherwise I stood as still as possible. I didn’t even breathe.
I wore a long-sleeved wraparound dress made of wool, and thin leggings beneath, so nearly every inch of my body was covered, but it didn’t matter. Goran’s hands started at my shoulders, and I could feel them through the fabric as if his palms were made of sandpaper. They dragged and scraped over my body, lingering in all the same places Ilia’s had, and I was only a hair’s breadth from a nervous breakdown.
It’s almost over. Just hang on.
I stepped back at the same moment he seemed to finish, and air poured back into my lungs. Goran looked at me with curiosity, not sure what to make of me.
“I’m sorry,” I said between hurried breaths. “Strangers make me nervous. Could we . . . be alone?”
He acted like it was the greatest idea ever. “Have a good night, Filip.”
“Should I tell Clive he can go, too?” Filip asked. “It’s Christmas.”
Once more, he earned a dirty look from his boss. Goran didn’t want me knowing there was someone else in the house. But he gave me a discerning pass, and must have decided he was safe with me. He withdrew his phone from his back pocket, and thumbed out a message. “I’ve let him know.”
I didn’t wait for Filip to leave before I blurted it out. “Vasilije said your library has a map painted on the ceiling. Can we start there?”
Goran’s black eyes lit with amusement, like I was a silly girl he’d humor. “Why not? It’s this way.”
I varied the length of my stride as we went like I’d done years ago, making it difficult for the predator beside me to get too close. I knew from experience that if he caught me, we might not make it to the library. Goran didn’t seem to be in a rush to move on me, though. He likely thought he’d have all night to fuck me.
Too bad, I was about to fuck him.
He pushed open a door and flipped on the light. Bookcases lined the walls and were full of picture-perfect books, spines in a variety of colors and heights. The room was classic, like a library set from a movie. My gaze went up to the large antique map on the ceiling, painted in earthy gold colors. It was beautiful, and my eyes flitted over Russia, finding the place where I’d grown up, before I knew anything about Sergey Petrov or the Markovics.
While I found the room comforting, Goran did not. He pulled up short as he discovered a young man half-sitting, half-leaning against the desk, a gun in hand and an eyebrow arched upward into a sharp point.