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I hand the knife to Boris to get rid of it along with the bodies. The Levin family does enough deals in death we are silent partners in a mortuary—well not us, of course, a shell company. Our ownership grants us access to the building and use of the crematorium. The ashes go out bit by bit with other citizen’s ashes.
As I walk away, back to the party where a few hundred people will attest I was there all night, I wonder why it is I feel nothing. The last man I killed, I felt nothing for the first time. Killing him was a reflex to the horrific shit he was saying. Eight years later there is a poetic rightness to killing again; it was for my woman. Death was deserved to the men, owed to Phoenix.
* * *
Phoenix
I’m seething with outrage the first day Aleksander stays away.
Out of curiosity I open the front door the second day. A very large man who I recognize as Aleksander’s bodyguard is standing outside. “What do you want?” He isn’t exactly rude but he’s not nice either.
“To leave.” I test the waters.
“The only place I will take you is to Aleksander. Would you like to go now or when you’ve put on shoes?” Wintery blue eyes run over my bare feet.
“Asshole,” I mutter as I close the door.
Amaya does what she can to keep my mind off being stuck here. She brings me piles of books and magazines, and there’s a freaking speaker system where music played can be heard throughout the large condo. I miss my computer but don’t bother asking for it. Now that I’m up and moving around on my own, Amaya only comes by in the evening to check on me and helps me bathe and wash my hair.
I’m just supposed to sit here twiddling my thumbs? What in the fuck? I sit down on the soft, royal blue, comfy as it looks couch and my stitches pull. Ouch. Okay, I need to heal. I might as well do it here. As badly as my fingertips are itching for a keyboard beneath, typing one-handed is beyond frustrating.
The kitchen is stocked as if twelve people live here. It’s not like I need anything…I just—for the first time in a long time I don’t like being alone. I kind of miss talking about last night’s episodes of the show I watched with Presley, and gruff Don telling me good job on getting them what they needed.
What I’m guessing is Aleksander’s office is locked. All the other doors in the condo are open. There’s another two bedrooms, one is clearly where Aleksander is sleeping, a workout room disproportionately filled with weights—aside from them there’s only a treadmill, rowing machine, and heavy bag.
I give in and settle onto the couch in the room with a television and begin poking around in the various accounts to see what Aleksander watches. It doesn’t appear that he watches much of anything, he has his own comfort show. A show about two brothers going around the country saving people as a family business is watched often, along with a show about a period Birmingham mafia family, and that’s about it.
A fit of giggles hits me when I find the show I’ve fallen in love with. I’m an FBI agent sitting on the plush couch of a mafia underboss who I’ve been married to against my will. No way in heck would I ever believe it if I saw it as an episode on here.
By the third day I can admit I’m hurt.
On day five, I’m afraid he won’t come back. He’s like all the rest, leaving me too. I knew it. He didn’t mean it.
CHAPTER14
Aleksander
“She said she’s going home. If you don’t let her go, she’s going to set the condo on fire,” David tells me.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Studying Phoenix as she stalks the length of the windows, I’m glad to see she no longer hesitates when she steps on her left foot the way she has over the last few days. For the last few days and nights all I’ve allowed myself are a few hours of watching her video feed before I slept. The first few days were more addictive than coke. It started like all obsessions, with a glance then longer and longer until by the third day, I watched her for hours without being aware of the passage of time.
Milos had the cameras installed last year to keep an eye on Celia as a way of preparing for when they would live there together—before something happened and he moved out. Over the last few years as he watched her, I thought he had lost his shit.
I understand now. The freedom to study her beautiful face, hear her laughter without hiding the effect it had on me, see her at any moment I needed to had me watching her for hours at a time. When I began to get antsy because more than an hour had passed since I’d last checked on her, I limited myself to watching her as I stroked my cock so I could sleep. If we move, the cameras come with us.
I call the doctor, telling him to meet me at the condo to check on her. My hope is he gives her a clean bill of health. I’m as ready as she is to get to the next stage, but not until he tells me she can handle it.
By the time I get home he’s waiting. Opening the door to the condo I’m met by a defiant Phoenix, who apparently heard me greeting the doctor and is only a few feet from me as I step inside. At the sight of the doctor, she stiffens.
“I brought the doctor to confirm you’re healing.”
She’s wary of him. Is she aware she leans into me and away from him?
Placing my hand at the small of her back, I urge her further into the condo. “The doctor won’t hurt you. He won’t touch you more than necessary. I promise you that.”
Blue eyes meet mine. There it is, my cock goes hard. “Let Daddy take care of you. I need to make sure you’re healing.”
Her pupils dilate and she sways against me. Fucking hell. The other times I said it were to gauge her reaction. This time tasting the word on my tongue, I like it. I want to be her daddy, the man she trusts, needs above all others. I want to be her everything because it’s what she deserves. I owe her this. I will give her what she needs.
