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I tip her head back to check, and she is fast asleep.
But I don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight.
21
KIRILL
Rayne moves through the house like a ghost. Not only because she is trying to avoid drawing my attention—an impossible task, but one she insists on attempting—but also because we’ve done this before. We’ve danced this dance. Acted these roles.
On the surface, it feels the same.
It’s anything but.
I didn’t consider how seeing her doing that would remind me of Ilya. A few times, I see her and find myself thinking,He’s right upstairs. I should go visit.
“Is this really the only place in the entire house you can read?” Rayne snaps. “I’m trying to vacuum.”
I lift my crossed feet off the floor and wave her on. “By all means.”
“You have the whole house. You don’t need to be in here.”
“This is the living room. It’s where I like to do my living.”
She mutters something I’m sure is insubordinate and flips on the vacuum on so I can’t make it out.
I pretend to read and she pretends to work and we both pretend not to notice the other person exists at all. It’s better that way. Safer.
Bad things happen when we acknowledge one another.
After a while, my phone rings and Rayne instantly clicks off the vacuum. She could be being polite, but I know better. She’s eavesdropping. I answer anyway.
“Kirill, I come with good news,” Leonid trills. He’s excited about something, which means it isn’t good news at all. Not for me, at least.
“Tell me, and I’ll decide for myself.”
“I spoke with Sasha,” he continues without missing a beat. “It was a long conversation, but he has agreed to come to my party and talk with you.”
“I agreed to attend to hear Sasha grovel. Talking to the motherfucker was not part of the arrangement.”
Rayne turns her head towards me, unable to hide her interest in my conversation. Apparently, she remembers Sasha.
“How did you expect to make amends with him without talking?”
“You know Sasha as well as I do,” I drawl. “Making amends will be significantly easier if he doesn’t say a word.”
Leonid bursts out laughing. “I love that sense of humor, but it won’t exactly build bridges. A few hours is all I’m asking of you, Kirill.”
“An hour.”
“Two,” Leonid counters. “I’ll seat you at opposite ends of the tables. But hopefully, my skillful diplomacy will have us all sharing a drink before the night is through.”
“Unless ‘skillful diplomacy’ is the name of a hundred-proof liquor, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
Again, Leonid laughs a bit too hard. He’s trying to flatter me, but there’s no point. The only reason I’m agreeing to go to his asinine party in the first place is because strengthening my alliance with Sasha’s mafia is smart business. If it wasn’t, I’d tell Leonid and Sasha both to go fuck themselves.
“Submit your drink requests now and I’ll have my party planner make it happen. Whatever it takes to get you through the door.”
“I said I’d be there. Don’t patronize me.”
