I opened the box. A diamond necklace sparkled in the sunlight.
"Jesus..." Shahruk sucked in a breath. "How much is that thing worth..."
"Doesn't matter how expensive it is. It's still garbage." Without hesitation, I tossed the box into the trash can by the door.
Clang.
A few locals walking by stopped dead in their tracks, staring at me in disbelief.
"Outsiders are so weird..."
"But those were diamonds..."
I ignored the murmurs and headed back into the shop, Shahruk following close behind. "Even if you don't want it, you could sell it."
"I don't need the money. You want it? Everything that comes after this is yours."
"I wouldn't dare touch anything that shady." He waved his hands frantically. "What if that psycho comes after me..."
This was the fifth day since I'd been discharged from the hospital. The expensive gifts had been arriving nonstop since I came back. Did Kholod Morozov think he could buy forgiveness with this junk?
Dream on.
As I said this, my eyes drifted toward the window. That shadowy figure lurking behind the wooden sculpture was still there, watching.
He was watching.
Perfect. I wanted him to understand that his money meant absolutely nothing to me.
That afternoon, another box arrived—half my height. I had someone carry it straight to the garbage pile out back.
"Don't you want to see what's inside?" the delivery guy asked.
"No point."
These annoying gifts kept coming, only making me despise him more.
I went out to collect some tapestries. When I returned, there was another box waiting.
I opened it. Baby clothes, toys, and various high-end baby supplies scattered everywhere. Every piece was from a top brand, every piece worth a fortune.
I gritted my teeth, crouched down, and started picking everything up piece by piece, shoving it all back into the box.
Just as I stuffed the last piece of clothing back in, a voice came from behind me.
"Tara, did he send more stuff?"
It was Lorenzo. He walked over, glanced at the box contents, and his face immediately darkened.
"Damn it." He picked up the box, headed upstairs, pushed open thewindow, and hurled the entire thing onto the street without hesitation.
The box tumbled through the air and crashed down hard—Kholod should have seen every bit of it.
"Like a bloody ghost." Lorenzo turned back to me. "Maybe you should consider moving?"
"Where could I go?" I laughed bitterly. "He found me all the way out here."
Lorenzo fell silent, too.
