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“Today was great, Arsen. I had a lot of fun.”
“I did as well.” His eyes warm with his smile. “Good night, Galina.”
He’s going to stay in the car. He’s waiting for me to leave to make the call to Nikolai. I watch him, noting the serious expression that’s replaced the joy we shared recently. He’s all business … back to being the man who faced off with me at Tsar’s while threatening everything I held dear.
Arsen has two sides. I wish I could make the one that took me to the ballet permanent. When Yevgeniy is defeated … It could be possible. That’s what keeps my head high while I stroll past the guards posted at the front door. I don’t wilt under their glares; I don’t shy from how they play with their weapons.
They’re part of the Bratva. They live on Arsen’s shadowy side.
Someday, he won’t need them.
I look forward to that.
19
ARSEN
Vodka does wonders to calm the soul. Unfortunately, halfway through my glass of it, my soul is as erratic as ever. Swirling the clear liquid creates flickers of light on the hard planes of the crystal. All at once I tighten my wrist, freezing my arm, but the vodka continues to dance.
It moves the way the performers did tonight. Swaying, rocking, undulating across the stage. But I barely recall the show. My mind is somewhere else.
When I take a drink of the alcohol, all I taste is her.
Galina.
She didn’t just let me nurse on her pretty little pussy; she actively encouraged me. Her desire drove my own. Then, later, she returned the favor in the car.
Shutting my eyes, I exhale shakily. The memory of her soft lips wrapped around my cock gets me drunker than the vodka. My soul is trembling. I can’t dampen the energy in it, not after what she did to me.
The walls around my heart that I spent years strengthening are starting to crack. Galina isn’t just knocking them down; she’s burrowing through from the base, attacking me from the shadows before I see her coming.
At this rate … I’ll be in too deep to walk away.
Ulyana warned me that I hold her heart in my hands. I clutch my glass of vodka tighter. My heart is at risk too.
A scream pierces the silent evening air. It rockets into my study, echoing off the walls. Galina! Throwing my glass down, ignoring how it cracks and spills all over the rug, I dart out of the room. The scream comes again—an awful noise that rises and falls like a dying animal.
Pounding down the stairs, I stumble, slamming my shoulder into the wall as I sprint onto the landing too fast. There’s pain, but I ignore it. Galina’s desperate yelling drives me onward until I rip her bedroom door open, breath exploding from my lungs. I search for evidence of an intruder who somehow got past my soldiers. Whoever hurt her, I’ll fucking kill them!
The light from the hallway behind me illuminates every corner. There’s no one here but her. “Galina!” I cry, hurrying to stand over her. She thrashes under her blankets, revealing her lavender satin nightie the more she rolls around. There’s sweat on her brow, her pink lips pulled back in a pained frown. Gently, I shake her naked shoulders.
“Galina, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”
With a choking gasp, she sits straight up. Her pupils are tiny balloons floating in a vast sky; they bounce around, finally noticing me beside her. Without a word, she throws her arms around my neck, trembling as she clings to me for safety. “Oh God, Arsen. Thank God. Thank God.”
She repeats herself for a moment longer. Her entire body is damp, and her clothing clings to her. I wipe the strands of hair sticking to her forehead behind her ear. “You’re safe, Galina. Everything is fine now.”
Shaking harder, she hugs me with her head under my chin. I haven’t held anyone like this in years. Galina seems frail in my arms, like a strong breeze could carry her away. Her breathing comes in and out rapidly. Finally, with a shudder, she calms herself. “Don’t tell me I was making enough noise to wake you.”
“I was already awake.” Tipping her chin, I make her look at me. “What was your nightmare about?”
Somehow, she goes even more pale. “Oh. Um.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, no. It’s okay. Let me just gather myself.” She smooths her hair, bringing it over her shoulder, where she winds the thick pieces around her fingers. “It’s been a while since I had a nightmare … about him.”
“Him?” I ask warily.
