“You were annoyingly tight-lipped about your real identity.”
I try to hide the relief washing through me.
“It only made me more curious about you.”
“Everything else is irrelevant. You wanted to know why I was questioning Spider, what I’m doing in New York. Trying to figure out what happened to my mother is the God’s honest truth.”
He grins, stalking toward the bed until he’s right beside me. “Probably best if you leave God out of this. Excuse me for not trusting you, but there’s still a lot more you’re going to need to share, Evelina … though I doubt that’s your real name.”
I keep my mouth shut. Silence is safer than lies right now.
Another memory surfaces: holding a gun to Kirill’s throat. Him daring me to take the shot. If I did it, would I be free right now?
But even coated in blood, even knowing Kirill is a threat, I couldn’t kill him. And that scares me more than being chained to this bed.
“Eat something. We’ll talk some more after.”
He hands me an elaborate breakfast plate. Scrambled eggs with herbs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and fresh berries.
My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since … Jesus, before everything went sideways.
He settles into the chair by the window, coffee mug in hand, watching me like I’m a fascinating creature. The weight of his stare makes me hyperaware of how little I’m wearing, how the T-shirt rides up my thighs when I shift to reach for the fork.
I do my best to ignore him and take a huge bite of eggs, glaring at him as I chew.
The eggs are perfect. Fluffy and seasoned just right. I hate that even his breakfast is good.
“Are you enjoying the meal?” he asks, amusement in his voice.
I can’t exactly deny it while shoveling food into my mouth this quickly.
“Yes, compliments to your housekeeper.”
He chuckles. “Not the housekeeper, *solnyshko*. That’s all me.”
The image of Kirill whisking eggs for the woman he chained to his bed is so absurd I almost choke. The ruthless heir to the Baronov empire brought me breakfast in bed.
I eat methodically, forcing myself to take my time though I want to inhale everything on the plate. The food clears my head, the dizziness receding.
While I eat, my mind kicks into gear. He knows about my mother, that I’m here looking for answers. But he doesn’t seem to know about my connection to the Syndicate, or who I really am.
Small mercies. Because if he knew I worked for the Belov Syndicate, he’d assume I’m here on orders. That I was sent to dig into Baronov business, and no amount of explaining that this is personal will convince him otherwise. This is the kind of thing that starts wars between families. And if he decides to reach out to Pavel, I’m double fucked because nobody back home knows the real reason I came to New York.
“What do you plan on doing with me?” I ask finally, setting the plate aside and meeting his eyes.
His expression turns thoughtful. “That depends entirely on you.”
The mattress dips as he sits on the edge, his hand coming up, fingers catching my chin and tilting my face toward his.
“I think there was truth in what you told me last night, but you didn’t admit everything. You’re still hiding who you really are. Who trained you? Who you’re working for.” His voice drops lower, almost intimate. “I want to know everything.”
I worry my bottom lip. “And if I refuse to talk?”
“You’ll talk eventually. I’ll make sure of it.” He reaches out and runs his thumb along my bottom lip, tugging it down in a display of dominance. “You’ve already told me about yourmother. Come clean about the rest and maybe I’ll help you learn what happened to her. Spider couldn’t get you answers, but I can. I have connections. Power. Access to people who were around during that time.”
The air in the room feels too thin. Kirill’s help would change everything. It’s more than I dared hope for when I started this. But it’s too good to be true.
“Your family is what happened to her! Why would you offer to help me?”
