“Of course! Oh, how is your lovely bride-to-be?”
My hackles go up. My brother has always despised Lucya, but Nikolai’s warning - Dmitri complaining about getting the ‘ugly bride’ - is still fresh in my mind.
“She’s fine, I assume. I haven’t had time to pay attention to her. She has a security detail looking after her.”
“Yes, well, I’ll see you two in St. Petersburg next month for my wedding to the lovely Inessa,” he says, sounding slightly disappointed at my indifference.
“We will be there to honor you,Sovietnik.”
“It will be the finest wedding St. Petersburg has seen since the Tsars ruled,” he says petulantly.
“Of course. Goodbye.” I smile as I slip my phone back into my pocket. Making Dmitri pout is the only highlight of this miserable day.
I have an office on the other side of Boston that I use for business meetings, and I shower and change there before going home.
I don’t want Lucya to see me reeking of smoke with blood on my hands.
Before returning to the apartment, I take the elevator up to the rooftop to check on the project. Five exhausted-looking men are cleaning up the last of the construction rubble. “It’s finished, Sir,” the foreman gives me a tired grin. The Turgenev Bratva owns two legitimate construction companies, one here and one in Chicago. I’d pulled a team off a building site here to get this done in one day.
“This is good work,” I say, shaking his hand, “there will be a considerable holiday bonus for you all.”
“Thank you, Mr. Turgenev.” He zips up his heavy jacket. “I’ll get everyone out of your way. Goodnight.”
Now, to see if Lucya will speak to me.
Pytor is waiting in the entryway when the elevator door opens. “Good evening, Sir. Miss Dubrovina is reading.”
“Has she eaten since breakfast?” I ask, shedding my jacket.
He looks genuinely disappointed. “I made lunch, but she said she wasn’t hungry.”
MyKolibriwas just now getting her curves back from eating well. Knowing I caused this distress sends another unfamiliar twinge through my chest. “Thank you. Check in with the night team downstairs to make sure security is tight. Now that we’ve taken out the Wozniak Mafia stateside, those fucking Albanians are getting bold.”
“Of course,” he says. “If you wish, I can stay here tonight as well?”
“You need sleep,” I say sternly. “You’re no good to my wife if you’re exhausted.”
A slight smile crosses his face. “Goodnight then, Sir.”
I go in search of Lucya.
She’s sitting right where he’d said, in a little alcove between the master bedroom and the study, there’s a tall window there with a built-in bench. She dragged in one of the couch pillows to make it more comfortable and she’s curled up, back to one side and feet propped against the other. My footsteps are loud on the concrete floor, but she doesn’t look up.
“I want you to come up to the roof with me.”
Her gaze stubbornly stays on the book she’s holding.
I have no frame of reference for this. I’ve never had to convince a woman to do anything I wanted. Putting out one hand, I ask, “Please come with me. I’ve had my construction crew working on a project for you.”
“Don’t you want to lock me back in that room?” Lucya says bitterly.
“No. I would like you to join me on the rooftop.” Frowning, I wonder how normal men do this. At any other time, I would just throw her over my shoulder. She’s looking at my outstretched hand now.
Progress.
“Please,” I ask again.
With a small sigh, she stands up, wincing a bit like she’s been in that position for a while. She doesn’t take my hand, but at least she walks with me. We take the steps, and when I open the steel door at the top, I cover her eyes with one hand. She stiffens, but she doesn’t move.
