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“Hey buddy,” Sophia murmurs, bending to pet the bouncy bundle of fur. “Yulia, didn’t I tell you I’ll find Luka?”
“Yes! And we’re going shopping now!”
I drag in a rough breath. There’s something about her eyes – darting, avoiding my gaze. And shit, they’re red, haunted with shadows that were never there before. Goddamn, she’s been crying.
Blyat!
“Are we now?” Sophia finally mutters, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. The contact lasts a fraction of a second before she looks away. Can’t say I blame her.
I did this. I’m the fucking reason she’s upset.
“Yes, and you will be coming with us,” I respond, trying to make it sound like a casual invite.
“Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir,” she retorts, her voice dripping with frost. The chill in her tone cuts me, and not for the first time, I realize just how royally I’ve fucked up.
“Why the hell do I have to go, too?” Dimitri groans from the passenger seat as I bring the Rolls to life. A soft purr hums from the engine, echoing Dimitri’s begrudging tone.
Behind us, Grisha, Boris, and Ivan are tailing close in two black SUVs, their stern faces hidden behind tinted windows.
“Well, someone’s gotta carry the bags, D.” I chuckle, pulling out into the bustling Chicago streets. In the rearview mirror, I can see Sophia, her eyes flicking over to Yulia, who’s safely strapped into her car seat.
“Just because you’re in charge doesn’t mean you get to play dictator,” Dimitri fires back, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff.
“Cheer up, D. We’re heading to Patrick’s. Who knows, you might find yourself a nice teddy bear.” I grin at him.
Dimitri, as usual, is on high alert, his eyes scanning the street like he’s expecting an ambush any second. It’s one of the reasons he’s so damn good at his job. And why I tolerate his constant whining.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Sophia sits quietly next to Yulia. She’s gorgeous, those plump lips of hers still carrying the mark of my teeth. The sight stirs a familiar heat within me.
Meanwhile, Yulia is safe and sound in the back seat, the soft light of her iPad illuminating her focused face. She’s plugged into her little world, bobbing her head and singing some song from her favorite YouTube channel. She’s in her own universe, oblivious to Dimitri’s complaining.
Returning my focus to Dimitri, I switch gears.
“Got anything new on Aleks’s hangout?” I toss the question at Dimitri, eyes locked on the road ahead.
“Just the usual. His men scattered around, looking busy. We’re getting there, Luka,” Dimitri’s gaze remains fixed on the cityscape sliding past. “Just a matter of time.”
“Time we don’t have,” I grumble, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Aleks has been a step ahead for too long.
From the backseat, Yulia’s bubbly voice punctures our grave conversation. “Luka, can we have ice cream after shopping?” Her enthusiasm is infectious.
“We sure can, malyška,” I manage a chuckle, easing up on the tense atmosphere. “The biggest one you can find.”
Her giggles fill the car, temporarily diffusing the underlying tension. She retreats back into her iPad world, humming along with her tunes.
I catch a glimpse of Sophia’s face in the mirror, her complexion pale and her eyes darting from one side to another; she looks like she is about to puke.
What the hell is going on with her?
“Sophia,” I snap, irritation and concern mingling in my voice. “You okay?” I growl, waiting for an answer.
She doesn’t respond, just worries her lower lip, her gaze fixed firmly on the window.
She’s angry.
Of course she is. You’re a dickhead.
“We’re here,” Dimitri announces as I pull the Rolls up to the front of the Toy Extravaganza store. The vibrant window displays scream fun and joy, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in our car.
