The kitchen went quiet. Dmitri sat there, staring at Akim in a specific way. “You hate my wife.” It came out less like a question than a charge being read aloud.
I kept my back to them as I reached for the coffee, letting a small smile stretch on my lips.
“Not at all,” Akim said. “I’m not sure where she got that impression.”
“You could have just said coffee would be fine,” I pointed out, glancing back at him.
Dmitri was watching Akim like he intended to address the matter at a time of his choosing.
“I’ll take a cup then,” Akim said.
“He won’t,” Dmitri declared. “He is leaving.” Akim paused before closing the laptop. “Get everything ready. This event is important.”
Akim was already on his feet. “Yes, boss.”
“Find out where my wife’s dress is. She should be getting ready.”
“Right away.” Akim gathered his things, nodded at no one specific, and left. He would have a reason to hate me now if he didn’t have one.
“Am I going somewhere?” I asked.
“We are attending an event.”
I looked at him, confused. “We,” I repeated. “Aren’t you sick?”
A slow smirk settled across his mouth. “If this is your way of trying to avoid attending, you’ll need to work harder than that.”
“It’s not.” I set my cup down and moved closer to him. “Realistically, you should not be sitting at a kitchen counter working. You should be somewhere horizontal with someone qualified, looking at that shoulder.”
He tipped his head. “Are you ordering me around?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t wrong. I had no ground to tell this man anything. Still, the memory of last night clung to me. He had lost too much blood. Enough that he needed proper medical care.
“Being concerned isn’t the same as giving orders,” I corrected him. “Don’t you remember how much you bled? Because I do. Alcohol doesn’t close a wound. You need a doctor. And you should report this to the police. Two incidents in the same stretch of time, both connected to that auction. What happens if the next one is worse?”
He watched me as if I were entertaining him.
“What if you got killed?” I finished.
“What if I killed?” he asked.
I exhaled a short laugh, rolling my eyes. “You think this is funny.”
“I think you’re being a very convincing wife.” The smirk stayed. His eyes moved across my face. “Let’s say I take your concerns seriously. What do you suggest?”
“See a doctor, rest, then have someone look into who is sending people after you.”
He hummed. “You sound about right.” For a minute, I thought I had finally spoken sense to him. “You sound like a good wife.”
I stared at him, understanding what that meant. This man could make you feel like you were getting somewhere and then step sideways without moving at all.
The doorbell cut through the silence. Dmitri exhaled. “That should be your dress.”
Worrying about a man who had no obligation to worry about himself was useless. Nothing I said landed where I intended it to. Standing in his kitchen, arguing over things he took as entertainment, was not a productive use of my morning, noon, or whatever time it was.
“I’ll get the door.” I left the kitchen and went to the front door. When I opened it, a smile spread across my lips automatically. “Caitlin.”
She stood in the doorway holding a garment bag over one arm. Her smile was bright before I even finished saying her name. She lifted the bag, presenting it. “You are going to love this. It’s custom-made. Only one exists.” She looked at me expectantly. “Can I come in?”
