Rolling up my shirtsleeves, I opened the refrigerator and pulled out fresh ingredients.
She'd once said that when she was stressed or blocked on her writing, her favorite comfort food was a piping hot cream mushroom pasta loaded with cheese and black truffle.
Shaving truffle, chopping basil, boiling pasta, making sauce...
I hadn't done this in years. The last time I'd cooked, it was in Moscow, for my mother.
And now, strangely, the process brought me an odd sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside her door holding a plate of steaming pasta fragrant with rich truffle, took a deep breath, and knocked.
"Vivienne. It's me."
A few seconds of silence, then her voice came through, cold as ice.
"What?"
"I made you dinner."
"Don't need it."
"Vivienne—"
"I said I don't need it."
My fingers tightened on the doorknob, nearly warping the cold metal.
"Open the door." My voice dropped. "We need to talk."
"Nothing to talk about."
"Vivienne Cole." My tone hardened. "If you don't open this damn door, I'll take it off the hinges."
Silence, then the sound of slippers on the floor.
The door cracked open.
Vivienne stood there in an oversized knit sweater and pajama pants, chestnut curls loosely tied back, face frighteningly pale, dark circles heavy under her eyes.
She'd lost weight.
Noticeably thinner.
"Well? What is it?" She leaned against the doorframe, exhaustedand cold.
I held out the tray. "Eat something. Sasha said you barely ate today."
She glanced at the pasta, something complex flickering in her eyes before the coldness returned.
"So Sasha's monitoring what I eat too? Nikolai, you're everywhere."
"I'm just worried about you." I frowned.
"Worried?" She laughed bitterly, cutting me off. "Your worry means having your men report my every move? Nikolai, you know what you're like? You're a sick control freak using your mob logic to turn me into a caged canary!"
"I just don't want anything to happen to you."
"Did you ever think your methods are driving me insane?" Her voice started shaking, eyes reddening. "I'm done, Nikolai. Done being monitored, done being controlled, done with your bullshit 'it's for your own good' logic! You know what these three days have been like? Every word I say, every step I take, I'm wondering if you're watching! I can't even relax in my own room because I don't know if you're behind some camera!"
