Page 35 of Fractured Ties

“Rude?”

She stood straighter and eyed Kolya. He seemed genuinely confused, and she didn’t know whether to laugh, or feel bad for him. “You’re not very kind to people, are you?”

“Should I be?”

“I would think so.”

Or rather, when the time called for it. It would probably do him wonders.

Kolya arched one dark brow. “Being this way gets me better results, yes?”

“Not with me,” Maya mumbled.

Kolya was quiet for a moment.

She didn’t even meet his gaze.

“Noted,” he finally said. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

To say the least.

“Today was a lot to take in,” she admitted.

“There’s two bedrooms here—pick one, and it’s yours.”

Maya blinked, confused at his statement. She intended to ask him what he meant—didn’t he already have a bedroom here to sleep in? What if she picked his room? Was he going to sleep in the fucking bed with her?

And why did that idea interest her more than it terrified her?

No one is saying he isn’t a fine piece of man, Maya.

A man she apparently belonged to now.

Even if he wasn’t going to say it.

It was the sounds of a beep and a door clicking as it unlatched, that brought Maya from her thoughts, and made her realize Kolya was stepping into the darkness of the townhouse. The garage door closed right after he stepped inside, and Maya rushed to catch up.

So much for asking him anything.

Kolya had already disappeared to somewhere else, anyway. Maya wasn’t sure where, because darkness stared back at her, and she wasn’t even sure what she was looking at. Then, lights lit up the space, showcasing a hallway and the living room it led into.

The bottom floor of the townhouse had a standard layout of a sitting area, a dining room, and a kitchen. The small front entrance didn’t have even a speck of dirt to be found on the mat in front of the door until she kicked her shoes off onto it. The beige walls toted no family pictures and only a few strategically-placed mirrors or pieces of artwork.

There were no coats hanging on the coatrack.

No shoes in the closet.

No dishes in the sink.

And yet, the place was spotless. The dark oak wood floors shined, and barely looked like they had seen any wear at all from people traveling on them. Even the heat had been turned on just enough that the nighttime chill didn’t affect the townhouse. The furniture was leather, stylish, and placed as if to make someone comfortable when using it. The kitchen table was large enough to seat ten, at the very least.

Still, the place didn’t have that homey feel. It didn’t seem lived in at all.

She didn’t for a second think anyone lived here—but especially not Kolya—and yet she found fully-stocked cupboards in the kitchen and a fridge full of food.

“Hungry?”

Maya straightened fast from her position of peering into the fridge and slammed the door. Kolya stood in the kitchen entryway—sans Sumerki, now.