Page 63 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

My throat constricts. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but all I can think about is the nausea swirling around inside my gut and the mouthful of black coffee that won’t go down.

“That isn’t it.” I barely register my own voice as bile burns my throat.

I stumble off the stool and run to the ensuite bathroom in Finn’s room, making it to the toilet as the nausea takes over. My body heaves as my stomach empties into the bowl, and shudders travel down my spine raising goose bumps all over my skin.

I don’t hear Finn enter the bathroom. I don’t hear him turn on the cold tap in the basin and soak a face cloth.

He kneels beside me on the cold floor tiles, smooths my hair away from my face, and places the wet cloth on my forehead. “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I crawl onto his lap and curl up against his chest, while he holds the wet cloth in place. Tears roll down my cheeks, and I don’t have the energy to stop them.

And he holds me tightly, just letting me be until I stop shaking and feel strong enough to sit up.

“Do you need to see a doctor?” His eyes are filled with concern, and more tears threaten to spill.

“No, I’m fine.”

He studies me like he’s the doctor trying to diagnose me. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No, I don’t need to sleep.” I push him away and try to stand up, my legs wobbling in the process. I lean against the wall and wait for it to pass.

“I’m starting to think you just don’t like my cooking.” He stands up and gives me a lopsided smile.

My head feels woozy, but now that I’ve been sick, I’m ravenous. “It isn’t your cooking.” I rinse my mouth out under the cold tap and face him with a smile. “I’m better now.”

He tilts his head and quirks one eyebrow at me. “I’m not convinced. When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday.” I don’t tell him that it’s twenty-four hours since I ate some fruit at Leonid’s house and then brought it all up. I don’t want him fussing over me. “Can we go back to the kitchen? I’m starving.”

I resume my seat at the breakfast counter and eat slowly, letting each mouthful go down before I start the next, while Finn pretends not to watch me and fails epically. When my plate is empty, I cast my eyes around the kitchen for more food and spot the bread bin and the toaster.

I collect our empty plates and add two slices of thick sliced white bread to the toaster. Then I go to the fridge and find the butter and a jar of marmalade which I take back to the counter and spread thickly on the toast when it pops up.

Placing one plate in front of Finn, I sit down and devour my slice of toast before he has even touched his, and lick marmalade from my fingers.

“You weren’t kidding.” He watches me with a curious expression as if I’m a playful puppy wondering what mischief to get up to next. “You were hungry.”

I eye up his untouched marmalade toast. “Are you going to eat that?”

He smiles and pushes his plate across the counter towards me. “You eat it.”

I do so and wash it down with the rest of my coffee. Then I sit back and finally look at Finn, who is still watching me closely like he might need to carry me back to the bathroom when my body realizes how much I just ate.

“Better?” he asks, and I smile.

“I feel fine. I was just hungry.”

I can tell that he doesn’t buy it but doesn’t want to push it either.

“What are your plans for today?”

“I’m going to look for Ivana.”

I haven’t left Leonid’s house in almost three weeks, and each time I’ve asked him for information on my sister, he simply told me that he’s still trying to track her down. I’ve no idea how or where or who is helping him, but I stopped believing his story that she doesn’t want to be found a while ago, and now I’m taking matters back into my own hands.

I’ve left it too long already. If something bad has happened to her, I will never forgive Leonid for lying to me.

“The white-blonde hair was a disguise. It was Ivana all along.”