I race across the city to her apartment, nodding to Ivan where he’s sitting behind the front desk. It was a good move, to install him as the doorman at her apartment building. It fulfills my need for her constant safety, at least.
“Boss,” he grunts as he lets me into the elevator. “I’ll keep you updated on the plan.”
The place is nice, if a little dated. I add renovations to the mental list of things that I could do to make Nina’s life easier and more comfortable.
I stride down the cream-carpeted hallway and knock at her door.Apartment 5b. “Can I come in?”
Nina looks at me for a second through the crack in the door. She looks exhausted, her wide eyes rimmed with red as though she’s been crying. I want to make her feel better. I want to erase the pain I’ve caused her.
“Why are you here?” she whispers. “It’s late. Ava’s asleep.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“Art…” I still get chills when she says my name, even if it’s with annoyance. “You can’t come around here like this.” Her tone is final, resigned, but I will not let her get rid of me that easily.
She goes to shut the door, but I stop it with my hand.
“It’s an emergency. I need to talk to you about something,” I improvise.
I don’t want to freak her out by telling her about the guards. She flinches at just the suggestion of urgency.
I know she’s remembering what happened to Lily. I told her it was because of a conflict happening in the Bratva.
Little does she know, it was conflict driven by my own mother.
“Fine,” I move to walk inside, but she places a hand on my chest. “But there’s a price, Art. Someone once told me that everything has a price.”
I quirk an eyebrow, but she’s not smiling. “Name it.”
“You’re going to be honest and tell me what the fuck you’re doing all this for.” She opens the door to let me in, and I cross her small kitchen to sit at the table.
The place is exactly how I imagined Nina would live. Everything is clean. Compact. Organized. She doesn’t like chaos, and it shows.
“The guards, the hospital, everything. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your people are tailing me all day.” Nina keeps her voice low, shooting a look towards the door that must be Ava’s room.
My throat bobs, and I hold my hands up. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why? What is it all for?” She runs a hand through her brown hair, which is loose around her shoulders. “I don’t understand anything you’ve been doing lately. You’re still not being honest with me.”
My phone buzzes with a text from Ivan, but I ignore it. I have faith in him to handle the guards.
“My fucking family, Nina. That’s the danger.”
I explain everything to her, how Denis and Polina have gone mad in their search for power.
“Well, shit,” she says quietly when I’m done. “I knew your family was bad, but I didn’t know they were that bad.”
I grimace. “They’re the worst.”
“Not as bad as mine. I can one-up you on family trauma, Art.”
“You might be the only person who can.”
I don’t know everything about Nina’s family, but I know her childhood was hard. Her father was a police officer who beat his children, and his wife, with total impunity from the law. Nina’s way out of that household was to study, obsessively, and be the perfect child. It’s why she’s so terrified of breaking the rules.
“Abusive dad, remember? That beats a power-hungry mom and uncle.”
“You win the trauma Olympics,” I hold up my hands. “But only because my dad was too dead to be abusive as well.”
