Glancing down at my attire, I wondered if I should change. “If you would like, I can bring it to you in your room,” he suggested.
While I knew he was being kind, I also thought he was conveniently giving himself an out where he wouldn’t have to make conversation with me at dinner. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Once again, I disappeared upstairs and into my room. As I collapsed onto the bed, I stared up at the ceiling. Twenty-four hours ago, I was in my room at the manor house preparing for the hunt.
In just a day, I’d been thoroughly fucked by a masked stranger, kidnapped by him, and then entered into a speech treatment plan with his boss, who happened to be the head of Bratva.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I rubbed my eyes.
It was a hell of a lot to process. While ninety percent of my life was rigid, precise, and rule enforced, the other ten percent of wild abandon still hadn’t adequately prepared me for all that had transpired.
A knock came at the door. “I have your tray, Ms. Whitfield,” Oleg called.
With a groan, I pulled myself off the bed and went over to the door. The moment I opened it, Oleg quickly shoved the trayat me. I’m sure he would’ve rather fought a rival mafia member than step foot in my bedroom with me outfitted in only a robe over my swimsuit. No wonder Maksim didn’t believe that I was afraid of him considering how scared his huge men were of him.
“Thank you,” I said as I took the tray.
Once again, it felt like I had died and gone to posh heaven. The meal of grilled salmon and steamed vegetables, along with a caesar salad, was served on china plates with crystal salt and pepper shakers. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the entree–it was the meal I’d chosen to have at the manor house for the dinner there tonight. The dinner I was currently absent from since the Beast had kidnapped me.
“Kidnapping jackass,” I muttered as I unwrapped my silverware from the linen napkin.
With murderous thoughts about the Beast, I speared a bite of salmon. I brought it halfway to my mouth before I froze.
“Oh my God,” I murmured as the fork clattered noisily back onto my plate.
Did Maksim know I participated in hunts? Did the Beast tell him where he had kidnapped me? The Beast claimed he had taken me without Maksim’s knowledge, which Maksim had corroborated. But surely there had been a discussion after the Beast showed up with me about what had happened.
Part of me wondered why I gave two shits about Maksim knowing I had a kink for masked men and being chased. It wasn’t like he was one of my work colleagues who might judge me, or question my ability to work with children since I partook in “unsavory and immoral activities”. Those were certainly not my words, but what I would’ve imagined some of the uptight stiffs might’ve said. The fear I harbored over my proclivities affecting my job was why I was so careful about covering my tracks.
Nibbling my lip, I then wondered if Maksim knew about the Beast and me. Somehow I couldn’t imagine he would’ve wanted to tell Maksim that he had fucked his desired doctor. Even though I didn’t necessarily want Maksim to know, maybe I could use that as leverage to make sure I never had to see the Beast again.
Like that’s what you really want.
With a frustrated huff, I grabbed my fork off the plate and shoved the bite of salmon into my mouth. Before I could worry anymore about the Beast or what Maksim knew about me, I grabbed the TV remote to drown out the annoying voices in my head.
I’d just finished dinner when my phone rang. Eyeing it curiously, my heart surged at Hudson’s name. “Hey,” I answered.
“Hey, Whit-Whit, how’s things with your dad?”
Shit. Thanks to that insufferable kidnapping asshole I had to lie to my best friend. “He’s…the same,” I replied, trying to stay as close to the truth as I could.
“I’m glad to hear that. Listen, Archie and I felt so bad you had to cut short your sexy time that we want to cook dinner for your parents for the next couple of days.”
My heart warmed at his consideration. “Aw, that’s so sweet, but you don’t need to do that, Huddy.”
“Fuck yes, I do. I mean, they practically raised me all those years. Not to mention all of the food I ate.”
I laughed. “You did put it away back then.”
He snorted. “It didn’t help that Silas and I were smoking so much pot we practically had the munchies 24/7.”
Although I smiled at the memory, it also stung. Those were the last few carefree years before Silas’s mental health deteriorated so terribly. While most of his friendships became fragmented, Hudson held on until the bitter end, and even then,he remained close with me and my parents. He also tried to fill in as big brother for Sammy.
“Well, if you’re sure, I know that would really help Mom out.”
“Awesome. Just give me some ideas of what they’d like.”
After rattling off some of Dad’s favorite meals, I added a few of Mom’s. “Are you sure about cooking? I mean, I’m not doubting your culinary abilities–”
