“I run a few restaurants,” Ilya says smoothly. “Just managing, not cooking. I’m not needed everywhere every day, and my assistant can handle things.”
I nod. I need to be subtle and take this slowly, but I don’t want to take it so slowly that Adam thinks I’m lingering on purpose. “I talked to Adam,” I tell him, biting my lip as I watch him for his reaction.
Ilya’s brow furrows slightly. “What did he say?” he asks calmly.
I know he doesn’t like Adam, so I’m surprised that he doesn’t yell or reprimand me.
“We broke up,” I say, nearly choking on the words. “So it’s officially over, I guess. I need to start looking for a job. I…” My eyes are surprisingly wet with tears, like the fiction is real. “I really don’t have anywhere to go or anything to do.”
It’s not like I can go somewhere with my pathetic resume of being a drug dealer and a stay at home boyfriend.
Ilya squeezes my shoulder briefly. “You can take your time. I’ll take care of you while you figure it out.” He smiles at me. “But if you need ideas where to start, your music is?—”
My blood freezes in my veins. “Mycello,” I whisper as the implication settles. “It’s still at Adam’s.” I need it. Even if I have nothing but the clothes on my back, I need my cello. Playing is one of the few things that soothes me.
That, and things I can’t even talk about with Ilya. Would he even understand that the way I submit to Adam is a craving I don’t think I can cut out? That the way I’d knelt before Ilya the night before had been a need, not a simple desire?
“We’ll pick it up,” Ilya offers. “When does Adam work? I’ll take you when he isn’t home.”
“Days, mostly,” I say slowly. “But I don’t have my keys or anything to get inside.” No wallet, no keys, no clothes, noanything.
I’m completely at the mercy of this man who runs gambling dens where people get hurt for not paying their debts.
So why have I never felt safer than I do pressed up against his side?
“We’ll figure it out,” Ilya assures me. “There are ways to get into houses if you forget your keys.”
Is this one of theillegalthings he does? Does he break into houses, too? Is that something Adam could use?
“Okay,” I agree. “I can get clothes, too. I don’t have much, and I won’t get in your way…” I look at him. I should ask if he’s really okay with this. I should give him an out. But I’ve already told Adam I’ll do this, and if I don’t, hewillget pissed.
“Take only the essentials,” Ilya says. “Your documents, your cello. I’ll buy more clothes.”
I pull away so I can look at him, meeting his eyes. I can’t hold the burning question back any longer. “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “You don’t know me at all, but you’re doing all of these nice things for me. You’re letting me stay with you. You’re offering to replace my belongings. You’re… Why?”
No one has ever been nice to me like this before without wanting something in return.
Even Adam.
Maybe especially Adam.
Ilya scratches his beard and averts his gaze. “It is… not a happy story. You will think lesser of me.”
I frown at him. “Why would I think less of you for something that has you helping me like this?”
He sighs heavily. “All right.” He takes my hands in his and runs his thumb gently over my skin. “I have seen it before. When I was younger than you. My father…” His expression darkens. “He was an angry man. Mean. What he did to my mother, it was… Well, I did not have happy childhood.”
I squeeze his hand, having to swallow hard against the tide of memories. My parents aren’t exactly shining saints, but they’d been too busy with the familybusinessto pay much attention to me. “I’m sorry,” I say softly, but I can’t meet his eyes.
He thinks I’m like his mother, that Adam and I are like his parents.
Can I really say otherwise?
“I did nothing,” Ilya says, even quieter. “I thought she wasaskingfor it. I hated my father for hitting her, but I hated her as much for staying. I didn’t understand.”
I have to swallow hard around the lump in my throat, and I can’t quite hear over the blood beating in my ears. It takes me several seconds to completely process what he’s saying. Adam has always called them bullshit domestics.
It’s always my fault, but I don’t have it in me to tell Ilya that his mother deserved what happened to her.
