Yuri mounts the driver’s seat, and the entire vehicle leans towards him. “Neither of these questions are appropriate.”
“Do you want me to pull him away from the job of tracking down the kidnappers just to ask his age?”
For a man who’s meant to take account of my every action and keep me safe, Yuri does a fine impression of pretending I don’t exist.
“Come on,” I wheedle. “What’s the harm in answering? If you let me have my phone, I’d have the answer by now.”
“Thirty-four.”
“Good one,” I say with a snort. When the guard’s expression doesn’t change, I lean over. “Are you serious? That’s barely older than me.”
“Yes.”
“Then how did he…?” I wave my hand around at the… everything. “Were his parents oligarchs? You can tell me.” Then I frown, recalling what Meri had told me. “Wait a minute, he was adopted, right? That means they died when he was young.”
“Glad to see you’re now answering your own questions,” Yuri observes in a dry tone. “If you could do that more quietly, we’ll be set. Buckle your seatbelt.”
I do it up without thinking, my mind working furiously over the tiny scraps it’s been fed. They’re not enough to ward off my ravenous appetite for information. “I suppose even rich kids go up for adoption if there’s no one else around to care for them. Was that what happened? Is all or most of this inherited wealth?”
I don’t even know why I care. Except I do.
“How long before he tires of me? I wear on people pretty quickly.”
I wasn’t even sure I’d said those words aloud until Yuri passes me a startled look. I sure didn’t want them to come out in such a sad voice. Seems my intel gathering campaign has rerouted into self-pity valley. Great. Good luck getting free of there.
“You saved Sophia’s life. Mr Balabanov will never tire of that fact.”
“That’s not what I—”
“I don’t know what sort of women he goes for because apart from Sophia’s mother, I’ve never seen him with a woman.”
Before I can follow up onthat,Yuri presses his foot down and the modified cart lurches forwards. Even when we arrive at the house and he kills the engine, I don’t ask further questions.
My mind’s already spinning over what he did reveal.
CHAPTERTWELVE
ISABELLE
Later that afternoon, I’m slouched on a recliner in my room, Yuri needlessly standing guard. Both of us are deeply involved in a movie where a group of old men attempt to find some dubious-origin treasure that might or might not be the spoils of an evil warlord when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I yell without breaking my gaze from the screen. “But don’t talk because I’m pretty sure this is the good bit.”
Baxter stalks into the room and suddenly the screen freezes.
“Or we could pause,” I concede, gazing at my captor. “How can I help you?”
“Nora said you’re bored and need something to do.”
“Nora’s a tattletale and woefully out of date. If she’d bothered to tell me you have an entire library of old movies, I might have spent yesterday on more fruitful endeavours.”
His expression doesn’t change. “D’you want a job?”
I take a whole second to weigh up the pros and cons. “Yes, please.”
“Sophia wants to see you.”
“Okay.” I raise my eyebrows at Yuri, but he looks nonplussed, so I struggle out of my chair to follow Baxter out of the room. “Are these two things connected?”
