Sergei turned around the empty apartment, cursing in Russian. The only evidence that someone had lived there was a half-full laundry basket and some mostly clean dishes in the sink. There was nothing to indicate where Olivia had gone. Nothing. Certain he’d missed something, he stalked through the tiny space again, but it was just like the first two times, and no new evidence magically showed up. “Fucking bitch.”
Bad enough that she’d run before. He could almost understand it in the wake of how things went down with Andrei. The entire family had been in turmoil, and that meant everyone connected with them was off, too. But to run now, when Dmitri had specifically hunted her down to bring her home? Un-fucking-forgivable.
Dmitri.
He had to report, and he had to do it soon. Failure burned his throat like acid, rage creating a buzzing in his ears that was almost welcome. I’ll find you, Olivia. And when I do, I’m making damn sure that you’re not walking away from me again. He’d tried to be patient. He’d tried to be understanding. But nothing had changed.
And now she was fucking that bastard O’Malley.
He could have forgiven her even that. It would have been damn near impossible, but he could have. But she’d gone and run from him.
Obviously it was time to take a firmer hand with her. She’d always been rebellious. He’d seen it from the time he first started noticing her when she hit sixteen and seemed to turn into a beautiful woman overnight.
Sergei could take strong measures when given the motivation—something she’d just done. If she needed a harsh hand to bring her back to heel, he’d be more than happy to give it to her.
He heard a sound and spun around. The ancient bitch from next door stood in the hallway, glaring at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Where is she?”
“Gone, and out of your control. You’ll never get your filthy hands on her again.”
Red danced across his vision. This old bat knew something. He was sure of it. If Olivia trusted her enough to watch Hadley, she would trust her enough to tell her where she’d hid away like a rat fleeing a sinking ship. “Where. Is. She?” Each word was a step forward.
The woman realized the danger too late. Her eyes went wide and she tried to duck back into her apartment. Sergei caught the door before it could shut. “You will tell me where she is.”
“I don’t know.” She dove for the phone.
He ripped it out of her hands. He closed her apartment door behind him and locked it, the sound of the bolt sliding home a click of finality. He needed to find his Olivia, and this woman was the key to doing so. “Now, now. We’re having such a nice chat. Let’s not end it so soon, da?”
*
After getting Hadley fed, dressed, and set up playing in the grass in the backyard, Olivia turned to Cillian. “What do we need to talk about?” Was he already regretting the sex last night? She really, really hoped not, because it had been quite possibly the single hottest night of her life. Even with everything else going on around them, she wanted more. He looked so serious, her heart lurched. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to hear me out before you react. Can you trust me enough to do that?”
Nothing good starts out this way. She did her best to quell her knee-jerk reaction. He hadn’t done anything to make her question him up to this point. The least she could do was give him the benefit of the doubt for a single conversation. She held her breath and nodded.
He didn’t seem any more reassured than she did. “You know this is one of my family’s homes, and I’m using their resources to guard us.”
Don’t react. Do not react. Hear him out. “I’m aware.”
“You also know we have a history with the Romanovs.” He held up a hand, obviously reading the distress she could feel working through her. “I’m not plotting or planning or going to use you against them. Breathe. There’d be no damn point of getting you out of town if I was asshole enough to dangle you like bait in front of Dmitri Romanov. That’s not what I’m saying.”
Her fear took hold of her vocal cords. “Why not? It’d be a smart thing to do, and you’d probably be a hero to the O’Malleys.”
His brows slanted down. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to be a damn hero for anyone. I can be a cold bastard sometimes, but if you missed the fact that I care about your contrary ass, you’re being intentionally thick.” He shook his head. “What I’m asking you is permission to give my family the heads-up that the Romanovs are in town and gunning for us.”
Permission. She waited, but he didn’t say anything else—anything beyond the fact that he cared about her too much to use her as bait or leverage, and that he was asking her before he so much as talked to his family about a very real threat that she had brought to their front doorstep. Olivia Rashidi, you are an idiot. She cleared her throat. “That’s it?”
He nodded. “I can’t promise they won’t want more information, but I won’t tell them anything you don’t want me to.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and watched Hadley toddle through the long grass. Someone must be on the payroll to keep this place maintained, because the longer she was here, the more sure she was that this was all a dream. It was too damn good to be true.
Just like the man next to her.
Finally, she huffed out a breath. “Tell them what you think they need to know. As much as I want to stay under the radar, if I’d wanted to keep you and the rest of the O’Malleys out of it, I never should have called you.”
“Olivia.” He grabbed her hand. From the look on his face, he wanted to pull her into his arms, but he glanced at Hadley and just squeezed instead. “I’m glad you called. Never think otherwise.”
How could she argue with him when he was looking at her like that?
She couldn’t.
She opened her mouth to say…God, she wasn’t even sure…but her phone chose that moment to ring. With a frown, she hurried over to where she’d left it inside the screened porch. It was a Boston number, but not one she recognized. “Hello?”
“Is this Olivia Rashidi?” A woman’s voice, somehow managing to be both apologetic and official at the same time.
What the hell? “Yes?”
“We have you listed as Deborah Richards’s emergency contact. Does that sound right?”
She blindly reached for the doorframe as the room went sideways on her. Mrs. Richards. “Is she okay? What’s going on?”
“There was an attack last night—a home invasion. I don’t have the specifics, but she’s in the hospital right now.” The woman paused, as if realizing just how cold she sounded. “She’s going to be okay. She’s suffering from several broken bones and a few other minor injuries, but she should make a full recovery.”
Broken bones. Home invasion. Olivia tried to focus. What are the chances this is a coincidence? “Is she awake? Can I talk to her?”
“She’s under heavy sedation at the moment, but she should be waking up in the next hour or so. She was incredibly determined to call you when she was brought in—she tried to refuse surgery until someone would give her a phone.”
Not a coincidence, then. The only thing that would make Mrs. Richards that determined to get a hold of Olivia was if she had something important to tell her—to warn her about. “Thank you for calling me.”
“My name is Jessica Randolph. I’ll be on shift for the next few hours, so feel free to call and ask for me if you have any questions or concerns.” She sounded like she was reading off a script. It was enough to make Olivia wonder how often this woman had been forced to make calls like this. Probably too many times. “She’s a nice old lady. Stubborn, but nice.”
“Thank you. I’ll call to check on her in a little bit.”
“Great. Have a good day.”
Having a good day after receiving this news was impossible. She hung up and carefully set her phone down, even though she wanted to throw it across the room. The only reason she’d brought the damn thing in the first place was so Mrs. Richards or Benji could get a hold of her in case of an emergency. She just hadn’t thought that there would be an emergency.
Or that she’d be the cause of it.
“What’s wrong?”
She went to Cillian and wrapped her arms around him. After half a second, he returned the embrace, holding her so tightly, it was hard to draw a breath. It was exactly what she needed. She buried her face in his chest, trying to stop the shaking starting in her body, but it was no use. “It’s my neighbor, Mrs. Richards. She was attacked sometime last night.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s my fault.” She hugged him tighter. “She was brought to the hospital, and even though she had broken bones that needed surgery to fix, she was demanding to call me. The only reason she would do that was to warn me.”
She half expected him to tell her that she was being paranoid and crazy. Hell, she kind of wanted him to. She really, really didn’t want this to be her fault. Mrs. Richards was a friend and had been there for her since the day she moved in. She had become like the mother Olivia always wished she had—at the very least, a beloved aunt. For her to be hurt because of Olivia…God, she could barely breathe past the guilt.
Cillian stroked a hand over her hair. “Would they do something like this?”
She didn’t have to ask what “they” he meant. Dmitri. Sergei. She started to answer, took a shuddering breath, and forced herself to actually think about it. “Dmitri isn’t usually so…blunt. He would have gone over there, had tea, and threatened her with a smile on his face. Honestly, he’s smart enough to have figured out within a few minutes that I hadn’t told her where I was going, so he’d move on and wouldn’t waste the energy.”
But Sergei? He’d always had a temper. He’d never turned it on her, but there had been a few fights where she’d seen his fists clenched and wondered if that would be the day he’d finally hit her. There was a reason he was one of the most feared men in the Romanovs’ employ, and part of that was because he didn’t have the same boundaries that other men did. To Sergei a job was a job. It didn’t matter what the job required—he’d do it and never lose a minute of sleep afterward.
He was a dog on Dmitri’s leash, but as much as she wanted to lay this sin at her half brother’s feet, she just couldn’t see him ordering Sergei to rough up an old woman on the off chance that Olivia had told her something important. It didn’t make any sense. “I just don’t know.”
“I can find out.”
Don’t leave. She lifted her head. “How?”
“Your apartment is in O’Malley territory. I’m not going to pretend we’re do-gooders who investigate every little thing that goes on, but if this is connected to the Romanovs, then it’s not a simple assault.” His mouth twisted. “I can’t believe I just said that. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll see what information I can dig up.”
“Thank you.” There weren’t words to describe how grateful she was to have Cillian basically holding her hand through this. She couldn’t imagine getting that news alone. Her guilt was awful enough as it was—it was too tempting to rush back to the city and check on Mrs. Richards. To see with her own eyes that the old woman really would be okay.
Which would be exactly what Sergei and Dmitri would want if they were really the ones responsible for this.
She turned in his arms to watch Hadley roll around in the grass. That was her endgame. She had to keep her eye on the ball and keep her daughter safe. Even if that meant holing up here and possibly putting the few friends she had in the world in danger. “Benji!” She jerked away. “I have to call Benji and warn him.”
Cillian stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll take care of it, Olivia. Though, to be honest, Benji has seen worse than the Romanovs could bring to the table.”
If he could say that, he hadn’t seen their worst. She had. Or at least she’d been on the borders enough times to hear more than she ever wanted to know. But he was right. There wasn’t much more she could do other than call him. She took another step away from Cillian, and tried to put on a brave face. “Make your calls. I’ll be out here with Hadley.”
He hesitated. “I’d prefer it if you both would come inside. We can put on a movie until I know something and then we’ll make lunch.”
Because they couldn’t guarantee that someone wouldn’t come for her. God, how had this turned into such a mess? All she’d wanted was her freedom. She didn’t realize it’d come at the cost that the people around her would be forced to pay. It was so damn wrong.
“Yes, you’re right.” Truth be told, she didn’t really want to let Cillian out of her sight, either. Her phone rang again, and she frowned at yet another strange Boston number. Maybe it was the hospital again? “Hello?”
“Olivia.”
Her whole body went cold at the rough Russian voice on the other line. “Sergei.” Instantly, Cillian was at her side. She shook her head when he motioned for the phone, but took his hand instead, his warm grip keeping her grounded and the panic at bay. Barely.
“You’ve been a naughty girl. Tell me where you are, and I’ll forgive you.”
God, how had she ever convinced herself she was in love with that bastard? She glanced at Hadley, still playing happily, and then at the forest around the property. Suddenly the backyard felt horribly exposed, like danger could be lurking beneath any of the trees framing it. “Leave me alone, Sergei.”
“I can’t do that, and you know it. You’re mine. And if you think I’ll let what’s mine walk away from me, you’re as fucking stupid as your brother says you are.”
She jerked, the sheer violence in his tone like he’d reached across the distance and slapped her. Cillian squeezed her hand, his hard expression letting her know he heard every word. She swallowed hard, fighting to get the words out. “I’m not yours. And I’m hanging up now.”
“I’ll find you, Olivia. It would be better for you and that little brat if you just come to me willingly. If you don’t, things will get ugly…Like they did with that old bitch.”
Mrs. Richards. She gripped the phone, her head going fuzzy. He really was the one to hurt that poor old woman. “You’re a monster.”
“I do what’s necessary. I always have.”
Why was she even talking to him? Nothing she could say would change the way he felt, and if Dmitri had given his blessing…Wait. “Does my half brother know what kind of shit you’re pulling in O’Malley territory?”
“Let that bastard enjoy you while he can. I’ll be taking back what’s mine soon.” He hung up.
She stared at her phone. “These things can be tracked, can’t they?” And she’d had hers on for the entire time that she’d been here—plenty long enough for Sergei to figure out where she was.
She started to take the battery out, but Cillian stopped her. “Call the hospital first and give them my number.”
“Right. Of course.” She should have thought of that herself. It took five minutes to get a hold of the nurse she’d talked to earlier and give her Cillian’s phone number as a contact to call, but they felt like the longest five minutes of Olivia’s life. She kept picturing Sergei staring at his phone, watching her GPS as he traveled ever closer. As soon as she hung up, she yanked her battery out. It was probably too late, but on the off chance that no one had already tracked her down, there was no reason to make it easier on them. So damn stupid. Getting rid of your phone is Running 101.
“It will be okay.”
Maybe if he said that enough times, she’d start to actually believe it. Olivia let him draw her into his arms. Cillian rubbed a hand down her back and up again. “I promise it will be okay. I’ll keep you both safe no matter what it takes.”
“Mama?”
Keep it together, Olivia. If you don’t, you’re going to scare Hadley, and that’s not going to do anyone any favors. “I’m here, baby girl.” She extracted herself from his arms to find Hadley offered her a handful of dandelions. She sank to her knees next to her daughter and made a show of examining them. “What have you got there? Flowers for your mama?”
Hadley presented them to her solemnly, and then split into a grin wide enough to make Olivia want put all her problems on the back burner. She climbed to her feet. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get these flowers in a vase.” Cillian’s presence at her back was almost enough to steady her and make her believe that everything would be okay.
Almost.