Open space and a bare wall have always been beside my desk. It’s never bothered me, but it’s proven to be the ideal place to hang a flatscreen. The futon’s been pulled closer to the screen, a small table added with charging cords compatible with her phone so she can complete her usual social media checks while she watches.
“Since there’s no TV anywhere in the mansion, and it doesn’t seem enjoyable to be using the smaller screens of your laptop or phone, I figured this might do. It’s a Smart TV, so it has easy access to all your required apps.” An unfamiliar sensation snakes down my spine as she approaches, steps echoing through the empty places in my head that she’s filling more and more each passing day. “I sent Andrei and a few men this morning to get it. It’s down here so you’re not alone in an empty room upstairs, but I can easily move it all to yours, or wherever, if you want.”
I don’t know why I set this up in my space.
Well, I do, but I shouldn’t have. She should be far away any time we’re not in class.
“If there are any technical issues, I’m right here to fix them.”That’s not the reason. Not even remotely close.“And…I’ve gotten invested in the damn shows.”That’s one of them.
She comes a few steps closer, continuing to stare at my living room set-up. Her silence stretches my lungs, filling the cracks with uncertainty. “You…you got me a TV. To watch my shows.”
“I’ll be in and out, working, but you’re free to come down whenever.”
What strange words.Vanessa might own the mansion, but she doesn’t visit if I’m not around. Neither do Ana or Dimitri. Soldiers don’t have access to the mansion’s interior. This is my area—my safety.
Not only is she tainting it with her sweet scent—albeit, at my request—but if she spends a lot of time here, this place will be hopeless when she leaves. I’ll never get my sanity back. The basement will be forever changed.
Yet, I hung the screen, knowing full well what it’d mean.
She destroys my control just by breathing.
“What you said in the car…”
“It came out wrong. I’m just—”On the fucking precipice of losing every fragment of control.“I don’t say this often, but I am sorry. It wasn’t meant to come out how it did.”
“Then what did you mean?”
That you need to let this go.“Fina…” I trail off, unsure where my warning was going but hoping my sharp tone does the job. There are few instances in life when I forget my words. Every single one has been around her.
“I’m confused, Lev.”
Me too.“Don’t be. It’s just a TV.” Needing her off the subject of feelings, I turn for my desk and open the top drawer, where I retrieve the cell phone I’ve been also getting set up. “I need your phone.”
Despite everything, she hands it over with little hesitation. “Why?”
“So I can sync it with the new one so your pictures and contacts carry over.”
“My new one?”
I hold up the newer but identical version of hers. “One with a Russian number Vitale isn’t aware of, so he can’t ping it. I’ll have yours destroyed, but if I do my job right, you won’t even notice there’s a difference. And if I’m not mistaken, you have another episode to catch up on.” That’ll distract her.
At first, it seems like she’s about to argue, but she simply shrugs in agreement and settles onto my futon. I focus on my task rather than how the puffy cushion swallows her, making her look smaller than she is, and she locates the controller to choose her streaming service.
Her perfume is about to pollute my second bed. Soon, I’ll be sleeping standing up like a damn horse to escape it.
I focus on setting up the new cell, logging into her accounts so her pictures and contacts sync while her show plays in the background. When a woman is eliminated from the show, losingher opportunity to be the guy’s future wife, I mutter, “Guy’s an idiot.”
“Why’s that?”
For the first time, I look over at her. Something unfamiliar knocks at my sternum at the sight of the Cosa Nostraprintessabundled in the blanket previously draped over the back of the futon, legs drawn up.
“She was the better option. She held a proper job and had hobbies. Personality. He seemed comfortable around her.”
Her smile is a slow spread, suggesting I’ve messed up again, but this time, I’m unsure how. “So you enjoy your women with a personality?”
My women.Sure, there’s been the odd one in the past. Alcohol usually makes sex possible. It’s the only way I can stand another’s touch. There have been far and few of them, by choice.
“Mindless idiots are boring. I have no time for those.”
