It’s all very weird, but it is what it is.
Out on the heated terrace on the other side of the tall windows, Andrei stands like a statue. His hands are folded, and he scans the grounds with narrowed eyes.
Sasha follows my gaze to see what I’m looking at.
“Andrei’s nice,” he says, returning his attention to his painting. “He’s been friends with Papa from before I was born.”
“You guys seem close, like you’re good buds.”
He nods. “Papa tells me he helps keep the bad guys away. And one time he got hurt really bad because of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Papa said one time bad guys tried to hurt me, and Andrei stopped them. It happened when I was a baby.”
Interesting. I place my brush in one of the water cups. “Sasha, do you ever feel scared here?”
He shakes his head without hesitation. “No. Papa and Andrei keep me safe.”
I swallow hard. Outside, Roman’s man stands watch. Up above, Roman himself keeps an eye on us.
And I’m sitting here, trying to pretend it’s all normal.
The call comes just after midnight.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, rattling around on the wood and dragging me out of my half-asleep state. I just want to hit ignore and go right back to not sleeping.
Instead, curiosity gets the better of me. I pick up the phone and check the screen.
My stomach drops.
Max.
The ringing stops, and for a second, I allow myself to feel relief. Then it starts again. I groan and roll over. I don’t want to answer it, but I have to. Max is a cop, and he knows Kyle. It could be about my brother. It probably isn’t, but the chance is greater than zero.
I snatch the phone up angrily and answer. “What?” I whisper.
Silence. Then he speaks. “Nice to hear your voice too, Mal.”
I’ve always hated that nickname. His tone is easy, familiar, and smug.
I sit up slowly, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. “It’s after midnight. What do you want?”
“To talk.”
I laugh. It comes out brittle and angry. “We did all of our talking when you broke up with me over text, remember? When you made fun of my weight?”
“I didn’t make fun. I was just looking out for you, you know?”
“Sure as hell didn’t feel like it.”
“You were getting comfortable. I just wanted to keep you on track.”
Rage courses through me and I want to call him every goddamn name in the book. But I don’t. Instead, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then speak. “What do you want, Max?”
“I just want to talk, like I said. Heard you got a new job.”
My stomach tightens. What does he know? “And?”
