“Great. Thanks for calling. Let me know if anything changes with his chin.”
“Of course. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call and press my forehead against the chilled windowpane. Closing my eyes, I breathe through the ache in my chest. Tommy deserves better.
Melody is an amazing personal aide, but Tommy should have a mother or a father, or his aunt who lives him with him, instead of a paid caretaker.
Tony was a cruel bastard, more so than anyone gave him credit for. Marco always seemed the obvious choice if the Devil came calling, but Tony was quiet in his evil. It rotted his heart from the inside out.
Once the pain turns to anger, I push away from the window. Letting these feelings get the best of me won’t help Tommy or me.
I find Mrs. Popova in the kitchen cutting vegetables.
“Hi. Um. Hi.” I wave awkwardly as I enter the kitchen.
She looks up from the cutting board and smiles. “Hello.”
“Thank you for getting that call for me. It was important.”
“Of course.” She nods. “I thought so.”
“Yeah. Uh, do you think—I hate to ask this—but do you think you could not let Kaz know that I got that call?” I’m probably asking her to betray him, which is likely a death sentence around here, but I have to take the chance.
“You don’t want Mr. Volkov to know about a phone call?” She tilts her head.
“Well, it’s just that it’s a private matter that I haven’t brought to his attention yet, and I’d rather wait until we—well, until I know him a little better before I explain it all to him.” At some point, I’m going to have to tell him about Tommy.
But not yet. Not when I get the strong sense that he’s looking for ways to punish me and my family for what my brothers did.
I can’t give him any ammunition. And my uncle has taught me well that Tommy is exactly that.
“Of course. I understand.” She reaches over the kitchen island and pats my hand. “Sometimes men need more time to adjust. They need a special way of learning things.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.”
Her smile is warm and welcoming and provides the first moment of comfort I’ve had since finding Kaz standing at the altar.
“Speaking of men,” she mutters and pats my hand before getting back to her veggie chopping.
A moment later Kaz walks in, a coat draped over his left arm.
“Here you are.” He glances between me and Mrs. Popova. “Is she bothering you?”
Mrs. Popova scowls and says something in Russian, pointing her knife in his direction.
“She’s not bothering you. Got it.” He shakes his head at me. “You’ve been here one day, and already you’ve turned her against me.”
“No one turns me any which way. I go the way I want.” Mrs. Popova chops a carrot aggressively while making eye contact with him.
“I know.” He frowns.
“You’ll be here for dinner?” Mrs. Popova asks.
He glances at me again. “No. I’m working at the club tonight. I won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“You’re sleeping at a club?” I question. “You don’t have to do that, I can move into a different room. You don’t need to avoid your own home to avoid me.”
He arches a brow. “You’ll sleep exactly where I told you to sleep.”
