He walks away and pauses by the doorway. “I do like you, Rosalie. I think you’re smart, and I think you still have a future. Maybe not in law. But you’re caught up in a world you just don’t understand. Let me help you.” He finally cuts a look at me. “Mr. Sokolov, I would like to interview you at your earliest convenience.”
I flash him a smile that I hope reads as a warning. “Gee, that’d be fun, Detective, but the last person in the world I want to discuss with you is my wife.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
Rosalie
Sitting on my bed, I rub lotion into my arms, waiting for Alexei, who’s still on the phone downstairs arranging a meeting for his people for tomorrow. Ella has long disappeared, and Garik is probably wandering the yard right now looking for threats. I’m wearing a sexy black teddy that I think Alexei will like.
As I wait, my mind spins with mysteries. Who could have possibly taken both my letter opener and paperweight from my office? Unfortunately, it could be anybody from the firm or even a delivery person.
Obviously, somebody wants to set me up.
I worry about Alexei and the internal war going on at Hologrid Hub. He’s already taken two bullets and a knife wound. Of course, he stabbed himself, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. I also wish he hadn’t dropped the bombshell to everybody that we’re married like he had earlier today. I was confronted by seven hurt and quizzical elderly men who only brightened after I promised that we’ll have a big, lavish ceremony and that they’ll all be included in the formalities.
I always figured that when I marry, I’ll have Alana and Ella as my bridesmaids, but now I have two bridesmaids and seven attendants? I’m not even sure what to call them. I don’t think Alexei would consider them groomsmen, but I figure if they’re all wearing tuxes, who cares? I know I’m getting ahead of myself planning this ceremony, but I did take vows. Yeah, that might be a comfort and a cop-out, but I want to see where this thing will go with Alexei. I’ve never felt like this.
My phone dings and I glance at it before answering. “Hi, Ella, what’s up?” I’m glad she’s checking in with me.
“Are you at your computer?” she asks, her voice low.
“I can be.” I reach for my laptop on the bedside table and boot it up on my legs.
She coughs. “I just sent you an email. Open it.”
Sometimes she is so dramatic. “All right.” I click on my email icon, see the email, and press PLAY on a video.
An expansive kitchen with marble countertops and stainless steel appliances comes into view. I’ve seen this room in crime scene photographs. It’s the Fairfax’s kitchen from seven years ago. The camera appears to have been mounted in the corner of the ceiling. Then a man walks over to the microwave to take out a mug. He’s somewhat familiar. “It’s David Fairfax,” I say. “You managed to decrypt the entire disc.”
“I did. It’s quite a virus that was introduced.”
As I watch, a younger Alexei walks into the scene dressed only in boxers. David turns, yells, and throws the contents of the mug on Alexei, splashing his torso. There are fewer scars and tattoos on him, but he still looks dangerous.
Alexei almost casually opens a drawer, takes out a knife, and stabs David in the neck before ripping out his throat.
David grabs his neck, his eyes widening as blood spurts out between his fingers. Then he falls to the ground. Alexei looks at him for several moments, blood covering his torso and his face, then he reaches down and puts the knife into a plastic bag before walking out of the kitchen.
My entire body chills until I shudder. What the hell? I would’ve bet my soul that Alexei was innocent. Had I just been lying to myself? “Alexei did murder David Fairfax.” The blood rushes through my head so quickly, I can hear the charge in my ears.
“I’m sorry,” Ella says.
Wait a second. “Alexei took your laptop and the disc.” Not that it should matter right now.
“I sent myself a copy the second I uploaded the disc the first time. Obviously.” She clears her throat. “I know you probably have guards there, but I can get you free somehow. We can head out of the country. Even use fake passports if you want.”
I’m numb. Lost. I shared my body, and more importantly my heart, with Alexei. I trusted him. Yet again, I’m seeing casual violence. So easy for him. “I married him.”
“I don’t care.”
Yet I do. Or I did. We most certainly consummated the marriage. Several times. He walks into the room, looking dangerous and invincible. I try to stop my trembling. “I, ah, I have to go.”
“Do you need help?” she whispers.
“No. I’ll call you tomorrow. Please don’t do anything until we talk.” I need to think.
She clicks off without answering.
Alexei unbuttons his sleeves and then his shirt, tossing the expensive material carelessly over my blue chair. His gaze is hot and his expression masked. “Who was that?”
