I nod. “I caused the falling out. Did you hear that part?”
“No. Ravil didn’t mention the details, if he knows them.”
Some of the pressure on my chest leaves. I should confess, but I’m too ashamed.
“I heard you didn’t come here willingly, either.”
“No,” Lucy says. At the other end of the pool, she reverses her direction, this time using a flutter kick. “But Ravil grew on me. Maybe Maxim will grow on you, too.”
“He’s overbearing and dominant but actually way more of a gentleman than I expected.” The memory of Maxim showing up in L.A. with a ring and letting me stay and party makes my heart squeeze almost painfully. He’s better than I deserve. “I really thought he would string me up and eat my liver for breakfast.”
“Things were that bad between you two?”
“Yes.”
“Ladies.” I look up to find Ravil standing at the edge of the pool, gazing at his girlfriend with adoration. He takes a seat in one of the chaise lounges to watch us as if we needed a lifeguard.
Lucy swims to the edge of the pool near him and deposits the kickboard. I join her.
“Have you heard from your mother, Sasha?” Ravil asks.
Warning bells go off in my head, and the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. “No,” I lie. I still haven’t been able to buy a burner phone because Ravil doesn’t let me out of the house alone, but my mom has called and texted me from different phone numbers, always warning me to be careful of Ravil and Maxim.
I haven’t spoken much with Ravil. If I’m honest, I’d have to admit he scares me. He’s pakhan, like my father was. Even though he was technically under my father, I believe him to be just as powerful. That means men live and die by his orders.
He could have ordered Maxim to accept me as his bride because he wants control of Russian oil. He could have plans to kill me that Maxim doesn’t know about. Or he and his Fixer could have worked out a plan together.
I don’t want to think that way, but his question about my mother seems pointed.
He studies me in that way my father used to. Like he sees right through me.
I dip my head under the water to hide the fact that his stare unnerves me. When I come up, he’s still watching.
“You don’t know where she is?”
“Nope.” I try to sound casual.
“It seems nobody knows where Galina went to,” he tells me. “She disappeared at the same time Vladimir died.”
My mouth goes dry. My heart pounds. I keep my lips pressed together to keep from filling the silence between us with information I shouldn’t spill.
“Some people think she had something to do with his death.”
“What?” This takes me by surprise. “That’s ridiculous. Why—because she’s gone? Of course, she’s gone—it wasn’t safe for her anymore without Vladimir’s protection.”
“His murder was strange. None of his enemies or potential successors claimed credit for it. And he was killed with poison—not really bratva style. Our form of murder is usually more… overt.”
Lucy makes a sound of disapproval and swims away. I want to do the same, but I feel caught in Ravil’s ice blue gaze.
“My mother didn’t kill Vladimir,” I say.
“You heard from her once, though, didn’t you?” Ravil presses.
So Maxim has shared with him. Goosebumps prickle my skin, and I get queasy. I climb out of the pool. “I’m getting chilly,” I say, not answering his question.
I grab my towel and wrap it around my shoulders. “Is Maxim downstairs?”
Ravil shakes his head. “No. But he’ll be back soon.”
More warning bells go off. I have to bite down to keep my teeth from chattering. I stuff my feet into my flip flops and manage to wave to Lucy before I make my escape.
I stumble down the stairs and into the hallway, stopping to lean against the wall outside the penthouse door. I wait for my heart rate to slow, but even when it does, even after I knock on the door to be let back in the suite, I can’t shake the cold that’s seeped into my veins.
Sasha
It takes me four days before I can get a moment unsupervised. Maxim, Ravil and Nikolai went to some kind of meeting. I waited twenty minutes, then picked up my purse and headed for the door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dima says, catching Oleg’s eye.
Oleg lumbers to his feet.
I hate the resentment that pops up toward them at keeping me prisoner. I like these guys. I felt like their equal. But now I have to ask permission to leave. Stuffing down my temper, I use my acting chops and hold up my hand like it’s no big deal. “Just running to the drugstore on the corner. For girl stuff.”
I don’t know why talking about periods always makes men uncomfortable, but Dima and Pavel both look away. Oleg stands five feet away from me, clearly still ready to follow.
“Oleg should go with you,” Dima says. He shrugs. “Maxim would kill us if we let you go out unprotected.”
Again, I hide my irritation and shrug. “Suit yourself,” I say to Oleg, holding the door open for him. We’re silent in the elevator.
Well, duh. I’m silent. I do have the urge to make chit chat to fill the void, but I resist. I didn’t ask for him to come along. I don’t have to entertain. I walk to the corner drugstore. I turn and put a hand on Oleg’s chest when he tries to follow me. “A little privacy?” I use my bitchiest bratva princess voice, but I’m instantly sorry, remembering what Ravil had told me. These guys don’t work for me—they’re his brothers. “I’m sorry, it’s just… girl stuff.” I wrinkle my nose. “Kind of embarrassing.”
Oleg steps back and angles his back to the store, like he’s going to guard the whole place while I’m in there.
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a second.”
He doesn’t nod or acknowledge that I spoke at all.
I go in, quickly grabbing a pack of tampons and a few random cosmetics to fill a bag, and then I head to the electronics wall for a burner phone. It requires me getting help from an employee, which makes me nervous as hell because it takes me a minute to flag one down, and the wall is visible from the door. If Oleg looked in, he’d see us.
I keep my eye on his back, but he never turns.
Heart pitter-pattering, I make it through check out, the phone buried in the bag under my girly stuff.
I step outside, almost lightheaded with my success.
Mission accomplished.
“All set. Thanks for coming with me,” I say, suddenly feeling quite chatty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It just wears on me feeling like I never get space. But I know you guys are just trying to keep me safe, and I appreciate that.”
Oleg slides his gaze over my way, but that’s his only acknowledgement of my words.
“Do you need anything?” I ask, suddenly realizing how hard it must be for Oleg to function in this world. “Can I buy you a coffee or tea or anything?”
Oleg’s brows come down and he shakes his head.
“Okay. How do you communicate when you want something, Oleg?” I come right out and ask him. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it up. I blink, unclear what he’s telling me. He obviously can’t talk on the phone. Does he have some kind of app? “You text it?”