To the level of a nuclear bunker.
There's a security camera positioned to track activity in the hall, two more covering activity outside my windows. One more thing I owe him.
"Miss Monroe," Ioann says quietly.
I turn around, trying to smile. It's a bit of a failed effort. "Yes?"
"I've done a sweep and feel the apartment is secure." Ioann has a distinct Russian accent, he pronounces each word carefully, and his speech is a little formal. "I will be staying right across the hall. There are two alarm systems here, and here –"
"Wait, in 3C? My neighbor Lou lives there."
Ioann gives me a small, sly smile. "Your neighbor is currently enjoying a six-month cruise courtesy of Mr. Morozov."
"He got Lou to move out?" I think about it. Lou had always wanted to go on a cruise. He had brochures plastered all over the bulletin board in his kitchen. Of course he'd snap that up in a heartbeat. He doesn't care what random stranger will be staying in his place. "Actually, that is not at all surprising." I shake my head. "Thank you. I'll need to leave for the shelter tomorrow at seven. The girls will be joining me."
"Mr. Morozov took the liberty of ordering in grocery service for you, knowing that there wouldn't be any food in the apartment." Ioann is beginning to have a vaguely queasy expression, like he's wondering whyhehas to tell me all the things that Roman has arranged for me, whether I wanted them or not.
So, I grit my teeth and nod a little too fast. "That's very thoughtful, thank you."
"I will keep an eye out for it," he says. "They have been instructed to notify me so I can supervise them when they deliver the groceries."
"You are terrifyingly efficient, Ioann," I say. "I appreciate it."
"Of course, ma'am." He turns to leave.
"Ioann?" I call after him as he opens Lou's door.
"Yes ma'am?" He turns and I wince. That "ma'am" thing is really going to get to me after a while.
"Don't let Rose and Iris fool you. They will eat you alive. They will chew you up and spit you out. They are more dangerous than pit vipers."
He has the common courtesy to look like he's absorbing my warning, though maybe Roman's crew already told him about the twin's reign of terror. "Thank you for letting me know."
We all unpack in silence, I find hangers in my closet, and extra places to stack their suitcases, which are conspicuously fuller than when we fled to Roman's. I recognize some of the clothes. Gorgeous, silky sweaters because they were chilly one night. Dresses, new swimsuits, small things that he casually had slipped into their room and mine when he knew we'd need them.
What I said to him was horrible. But I knew he wouldn't let me go unless I torched this slow building… something between us.
You did good,I dryly tell myself.It's nothing but ash now.
We eat dinner - courtesy of Roman's gourmet delivery - in silence around the kitchen counter, all of us looking down at our plates.
"Be up by six," I say. "You'll be working with me at the shelter until school starts." They have enough self-preservation to not say a word. "You two have the bed, I'll take the couch. I have a lot of work to do anyway."
It's past midnight and the numbers blur as I try to focus on an advanced costs spreadsheet. And I'm still tracking the order for refurbished iPads that's been painfully slow to arrive at the shelter. When the first teardrop splashes onto my keyboard, I push it away, wiping my face with my sleeve.
I've got to be tougher than this.
Clicking over to my Goldman Sachs investment account, I post a liquidation request for my entire investment portfolio, instructing them to wire the money to Roman.
The notification instructs me that it'll take about forty-eight hours to post to his account. He more than earned it.
A week later…
A cheerful notification pops up on my phone, informing me that Roman has again refused my financial transfer and has returned it. Exasperated, my thumbs fly across the screen, sending the transfer again.
"Again?" Iris is leaning against my office door, not quite smirking.
"Yes," I sigh, rubbing my forehead. "This is his money, damn it!"
