Page 34 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"You’re just going to keep me locked up there until⁠—”

But the look he gives me casts me into silence, and I know that he’s done discussing this with me. And I notice that there are dark rings under his eyes. I wonder if that has anything to do with the note that I found in my room the other day, the note that announced that someone has it out for me. I almost want to ask him, but I have pushed my luck too far as it is. Better to head back to my room and lick my wounds, figure out what I’m going to do next, than try to plead my case again.

I slink off back in the direction of my room, and I swear I can feel the eyes of every single man in here on me as I do so. What must they think of me? I can’t help but wonder if there have been other women he’s claimed like that. The intensity of what we shared makes it hard to imagine, but then there is so much about this man that I don’t know. So much that remains to be seen, whether I like it or not.

Just as I reach the doorway that leads to the corridor, I feel the hair at the back of my neck prickle. I glance around, and at the far side of the room, I spot Sergei watching me from the entrance to his quarters. I’m not sure how long he has been standing there, but his gaze is fixed on me, like there’s something he’s trying to figure out.

But as soon as I lock eyes with him, he turns away. I stare after him for a moment, wondering if I imagined it all. I don’t know what is going on with him, but I can’t help but recall how he turned away from the sight of Ilya and me the day before, too. Is it curiosity? Jealousy?

Or something else entirely?

I brush the thought off and make my way back to my room. I have enough to worry about without getting into whatever is happening with the politics of this place. I mean, Ilya clearly runs this mansion with an iron fist, and I doubt anything escapes his view. That doctor he’s called upon to visit is no doubt part of the organization, too. Suddenly, I wonder whether I should really trust Ilya, whether I can put my faith in a man who is involved in such darkness.

But I don’t see what other choice I have. I shower, and by the time I emerge from the bathroom, Marsha is stepping into the room with a tray of food. Eggs, toast, orange juice—the delicious scents waft towards me, and my mouth waters.

"Thank you," I murmur as she places the tray down in front of me.

She nods slightly, smiling, but I notice that she is avoiding my gaze. Is she worried about getting on the wrong side of me, or is she just all too aware of what happened yesterday? I don’t know, and truthfully, I’m not certain I want the answer.

I tuck in, trying to focus on the food before me, on all the things I have here that I didn’t before. Someone to cook for me, someone to organize appointments for me, someone who wants me in ways he will not hold back from. And I know, deep down, that I should be grateful in some demented way.

But there is something nagging at the back of my mind that warns me there’s more going on here than I think.

And that one way or another, I am going to face it.

Chapter 18

Ilya

"How long till Cillian arrives?” I ask Sergei, who glances down at his phone.

"A half hour," Sergei replies.

"Make sure she’s ready for him," I order him. "And make it clear to him just how important this is. I want him on his A-game, you hear?"

"Got it," Sergei replies as he rises from the seat opposite me. "Anything else you need me to take care of?"

I shake my head. "Just make sure that the baby is well," I reply. "And that nobody gets a chance to slip any other notes under her pillow."

He nods again and heads to the door. I watch him as he leaves, leaning back into my seat, and as soon as he is gone, I find the room cast into silence again. Nothing for company but my own thoughts.

And they have kept me up long enough as it is. Shit, I know I should be keeping my head in the game, but I spent most of last night tossing and turning, trying to figure out if Kieran really was the one at fault for what happened with that note. He’s the only person we didn’t have eyes on that night; the CCTV for that part of the house covers the kitchen and the garden, not the door itself. There’s nothing to back up his story that he’s innocent, but still something nags at the back of my mind, telling me that there’s something I’m missing here.

I don’t know what Sergei did with Kieran, exactly. Just that he’s gone, and it’s going to stay that way. I can’t let him set foot in this place again, not without drawing the attention and ire of everyone who was there to watch him get beaten to a pulp. As far as they are concerned, I made a choice and followed it through. I don’t back down when I make a call like that, and I’m not going to change my mind now. Not without looking weak and unsure of myself.

Fuck it—I open my laptop, tapping through to the CCTV footage from the night before the note was discovered. That’s when it must have been abandoned there, right? If Petar is really the one who left it, he must show up on at least one camera throughout the house. In the form of a car pulling up, just something to confirm that he was snuck in right under my nose.

I play the footage as quickly as I can, until I come to the evening when it must have happened. Drumming my fingers against the desk, I slow the video so I can watch from the hour or so after sundown. That’s when he must have been brought in, when the house was quiet and still and nobody was watching too closely.

I narrow my eyes as I watch, taking in all the screens, gaze darting between each camera feed to see if anything looks out of place. And much to my surprise, it turns up nothing. Nothing I can see that looks like it doesn’t belong, nobody there I don’t recognize. I run the footage forward a little, focusing on the kitchen area where Kieran would have been standing guard, but there’s nothing. Not a flicker, not a hint of someone stepping out who doesn’t belong.

I suck on my teeth, pushing the camera feeds forward and running through as much of the footage as I can. There has to be something to confirm Sergei’s accusation of Kieran. Sergei knows this place better than I do, running the security here like the tightest of ships. And yet, I can’t see anything. Can’t make out a single detail that looks like it doesn’t belong.

Which means...

Which means Sergei could have been wrong. And that the beating Kieran took to pay for his crimes might have been aimed at the wrong person.

I scroll through the rest of the night, eyes fixed on the gardens, where Petar must have come through if Kieran let him in through the kitchen. But Petar is nowhere to be seen. In fact, the footage is downright idyllic, still and unmoving.