They exchange glances, but they know better than to argue when I use that tone. Boris packs up his laptop, Dima melts toward the elevator, and Lev grabs one last piece of bread from the table.
“Night, little rabbit,” he says, winking at Mary. “Sweet dreams.”
I wait until the elevator doors close before turning back to Mary.
She’s sitting there with her hands folded in her lap, looking small and uncertain again.
“There are rules,” I tell her.
“I figured.”
“You don’t leave this building without permission. You don’t contact anyone without clearing it through me first. You go to work, you come home, you report what you find.”
She nods.
“And you don’t cook for my men.”
That gets her attention. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I wasn’t planning to cook for…them,” she says quickly, color rising in her cheeks. “I just meant… for myself. Maybesometimes make extra if there’re leftovers, but I wasn’t— I didn’t mean—”
“Good.”
Because the thought of you taking care of anyone else makes me want to break things.
She stares at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her expression.
“Where will you be staying?” she asks finally.
“Unit down the hall. I’ll be close.”
Idiot.Why tell her anything?
“Oh.”
She looks almost… disappointed?
“Okay.”
I head toward the elevator, but something makes me stop at the threshold.
I glance over my shoulder.
“Don’t answer the door for anyone. Not even me.”
She frowns. “Why?”
I lock eyes with her.
“Because if I knock instead of using my key… something went very wrong.”
The color drains from her face as the implication sinks in.
I step into the elevator and let the doors close.
23
