Page 96

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. After telling Dimitri and Noah everything, I feel lighter, glad that what I revealed must have given them a vital clue in finding the man trying to kill Dimitri.

I don’t see him again that day. He’s too busy trying to get to the bottom of it all. And I understand, but I still find myself missing him.

The morning after my confession, he leaves early and tells me to tune into Channel Eight. I don’t follow politics, but even I recognize Daniel Salvi. I watch in stunned silence as he’s exposed live on television.

As the evidence starts piling up, I know, deep in my gut, that he’s the man who sent me after Dimitri. The one who took Millie.

Dark satisfaction curls through me when he’s led off the stage in handcuffs. Now, where’s my friend, you bastard?

That evening, when Dimitri finally gets home, I get some insight. We have a quiet dinner together, and between bites, he tells me he’s chasing a lead on Millie’s location and that he expects to find her soon. Maybe even by tomorrow evening, if all goes well. I’m too scared to ask the obvious question: in what state?

That fear hangs in the air, unanswered, for the rest of the night. I’m so distracted by it that I don’t even protest when Dimitri excuses himself to work after dinner. Left to my own thoughts, I toss and turn in bed before finally drifting into a restless sleep full of vivid, fragmented dreams about being reunited with Millie. I see her smiling face, her swollen face, her lifeless face…

At some point, I feel myself become weightless. Instinctively, my arms tighten around the first solid thing they find, my eyes snapping open to see Dimitri carrying me out of my room. “Wh-what’s happening?” I mumble groggily, a little disoriented.

“You sleep in my room, solnyshko,” he says, adjusting me more securely in his arms as he steps out into the hallway.

My heart softens, and I’m lulled by the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his body. Before we even reach his bedroom, sleep pulls me back under.

When I wake again, morning sunlight is pouring through the curtains. I roll toward Dimitri’s side, stretching out a hand, only to find cold sheets. He’s been gone for a while…

With a sigh, I push myself upright, half expecting to see Anya waiting in the armchair as usual, but she isn’t here either. I suppose there’s no need for a babysitter anymore, now that Dimitri isn’t tormenting me.

After getting dressed and freshening up, I head downstairs and find Anya out on the patio beside the pool, curled up with a book.

“Hugo is almost done with breakfast,” she says with a small smile as she glances up from the page.

“What are you reading?” I ask, taking the seat across from her.

To my surprise, she quickly snaps the book shut and places it on her lap, instead of on the table. “Nothing interesting, really.”

I raise a brow. “Then why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not, I’m—I—” She waves a flustered hand, her cheeks flushing pink, and despite the knot of anxiety still sitting in my stomach, I laugh.

“If you’re that embarrassed, maybe you shouldn’t read it in public.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she says with a groan. “But it was getting so good, I had to know what happened next.” She taps her fingers on the book, hesitating briefly before passing it to me.

The cover is plain with no title or author’s name. Curious, I flip through the first few pages until I reach the dedication.

To all my girlies with dark needs. Turn the page.

Against my better judgment, I do.

Two words greet me. Two words that have my insides clenching.

Good girl.

I close the book and thrust it back into Anya’s hands, my own face heating up.

“It’s a really good book,” she says, her blue eyes twinkling with barely restrained laughter. We both dissolve at the same moment, still laughing when Hugo arrives with the breakfast tray a few minutes later.

He raises his brows as he places the tray on the table. “What’s got you both in stitches?”

“Nothing!” we both shout at the same time.

We look at each other—and immediately lose it again.