“Where are we going?” she asks, her tone mellower this time, curious.
“I have a surprise for you.”
She halts in the middle of the stairs. “No. I don’t want it. Let me go back to my room.”
Poor thing. She thinks I’m taking her to the slaughterhouse. Maybe I scared her too much.
“You’re with me. No one will hurt you. In fact, it’s something you’ll enjoy. I promise.”
She looks up at me, and her expression softens—just slightly, but noticeable enough. My chest expands at the sight of it because it means that somehow, she trusts me, even if just a little. Good.
I take her downstairs and out through the back door, into the garden. We follow a narrow, stone-beaded trail between trimmed bushes and beds of flowers, until finally, she sees it. Her eyes shift to me, only this time they’re glassy, like she’s about to cry in front of me.
“What is this?”
“I had to punish you for what you did, for making an unauthorized call and running from me. But you stayed put through your punishment and didn’t give Corinne a hard time. For that, I want to reward you. And show you that I can be good to you if you do what I say.”
She takes a sharp breath, nodding.
“Go on,” I tell her, jerking my head to Sasha, who is waiting for her on the patio. “Talk to him, then we’ll have breakfast out here. You need to eat.”
I caress her head once, her soft hair a reminder of how fragile she is despite her feisty nature.
She doesn’t say anything back to me, but she doesn’t have to. I can tell what this means to her. And hopefully, it will teach her only I hold the keys to moments like this.
11
VICTORIA
Letting go of me, Wolfgang brings his hand to the small of my back, encouraging me to walk. He doesn’t need to ask twice.
Sasha’s tired eyes watch me with a smile glistening in them. I can’t believe he’s here… and that Wolfgang didn’t hurt him—like he promised.
I keep my composure as I take the steps toward him, but it shatters completely when I get close. I practically jump at the man I consider my father, wrapping my arms around his torso, burying my head in his chest.
“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, hugging me back. “Don’t let him see you weak.”
I nod, blinking back tears as I push from his chest to see his face.
“Good. Let’s have a chat, then. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, smiling. “How are you here?”
“Let’s just say when the Rykov Bratva bangs on your door and puts a gun to your head, there’s not much you can do about it. I thought they were taking me to my grave.”
I shiver at the thought.
When I look behind me, Wolfgang’s watchful eye is still there, but he’s back in front of the house, at a reasonable distance, lighting a cigarette. Letting me know he’s around, but not prying, which is more than I could’ve asked for.
Sasha and I sit down on the patio chairs. He looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him. His beard is still white, and his eyes are still droopy, but his warmth and smile are the same. He feels like home, even in this strange, lonely place.
“Has he hurt you?” he asks. Nothow are you doing?He probably knows the answer isnot well.
“No. He’s not violent.”
Sasha hums in understanding. “Touched you?”
Touched me? Yeah, but not in the way he’s asking. The truth is, I was touched… everywhere, and I allowed it—enjoyedit, even. But I can’t tell him that. What would he think of me?
