“Baby girl. Don’t run away from me.” Even before I grabbed her leash, I noticed what she was staring at.
Another set of icy ghostly fingers wrapped around my neck.
I was incapable of moving, fighting the insane thoughts poking the back of my mind like a sharp blade.
The same man from the audience was sliding into through the back passenger door of a large black SUV. In his attempt to close the door himself, I was rewarded with a glimpse of the side of his face.
His handsome, chiseled face, thick dark hair framing long black eyelashes. My reaction immediate, I opened the door without thinking, my baby rushing out in front of me, making it to the curb just as the driver pulled away.
Golden remained where she was, watching as the SUV rolled down the street, her beautiful fluffy tail slowly dropping.
I rushed beside her, crouching down. Panic had also wrapped its claws around me, the call of the past nothing I could handle. “Don’t you dare do that again. You scared Mommy.” Her little whimper kept my heart in fractured pieces. There was no way that was Kazimir. None.
And if it was, I’d push him away.
I’d need to. I couldn’t relive the past. I couldn’t tolerate the horror of what I’d endured.
Of what I’d done.
No, of what I’d been forced to do because of Kazimir’s death.
In those moments as the vehicle faded from view, I resisted falling prey to the darkest of emotions that had plagued me before.
Yet a single tear rolled down my face and Kazimir wasn’t here to take away my pain.
CHAPTER 17
Kazimir
“Sometimes the devil is a gentleman.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The quote was something my father used to say when someone of faith and fear had tossed the insult in our direction. I’d thought the hatred seen in their eyes had been because our surname carried the meaning of the devil. Only when I was older had I embraced there were other, more significant and vitriolic reasons.
Including a reputation of being monsters.
However tonight, as I stood inside a tiny apartment with the Eiffel Tower in the distance, I realized I was neither. Perhaps I was simply dead inside, incapable of feeling anything. At least that’s what I’d told myself over three years before. Spending time in prison was easier when no one mattered to a man’s black heart and empty soul.
Yet most men would argue I was lying to myself and why? Because not only had I insisted on coming to Paris as my first item of business on a long agenda, but I’d also decided I’d restart my criminal activity by breaking and entering.
This was Rafaela’s personal space, everything inside the few rooms reminding me of her. I stood in the small living room, allowing my eyes to get used to the shadows. She’d left the light on over the tiny stove, realizing she’d be home after dark. What I noticed first was the dog’s bed located near her couch. There were also dog toys in a cute bone-shaped toy box off to the side.
Golden Angel had remembered me as I’d done with her. We’d formed a bond that had possibly given my appearance away. I’d also seen the expression offered by my little healer.
Uncertainty followed by shock. Rafaela had done her very best to shove aside what her senses had already told her. I was usually very good with reading people and she’d done an excellent job of producing a mask hiding her emotions after the initial surprise.
Maybe that’s why I hadn’t been ready to return from the dead.
I needed to learn every scrap of information about her including her connection to the Pollizi family, just like with her father. Only then would I know how to handle her. Prison hardened a man no matter the circumstances. If she had any part in the attack, including the disfigurement of my brother, she would pay dearly. If not? She could still be a weapon against her father. While I was somewhat angry Pollizi had pulled the wool over my family’s and soldiers’ eyes, my guess was the Italian Don had been working with the Russians for a long time. He’d certainly fooled me.
I’d deal with that later.
For now, I could enjoy discovering the woman who’d replaced the girl.
Tossed over the back of the couch was a fuzzy throw. After walking closer, I pulled it to my mouth and nose, taking a deep whiff.
Her perfume lingered on the porous surface, sweet with jasmine and a hint of spice just like I remembered. I fingered the soft material for a few indulgent seconds before tossing it aside. She had very little, which would surprise most given her upbringing, but given our discussions, I wouldn’t expect anything less.
