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I see lights in the distance flashing, and distant sirens wailing. I'm exhausted. My chest feels heavy and it's hard to breathe in a full breath. My eyes keep watering and are no doubt bloodshot from all the smoke. I let my gaze wander in an attempt to find a way down without becoming a flat pancake on the ground below.
At the edge of the grounds near the gate, I can see a small crowd of Adrian’s staff gathered. Among them, I see Anna and Misha, Adrian’s driver.
“Vanya,” I hear someone scream my name from the other side of the roof. “Vanya.” It's coming closer now. A rush of relief soars through me when Adrian’s head pops over the lip of the roof on the opposite side. He screens my name again and motions for me. There's a wild terrified look in his eyes that I've never seen before.
It almost looks like concern.
Would he be sad if I died?
Would he mourn me?
Or would it simply allow him to take my family’s empire without contestation?
There’s no time to contemplate the emotions playing on his face because the house rocks and another explosion sounds from beneath me. Pulling my leg to the other side I scurry down the roof and into his waiting arms. He holds me tight to his chest for a moment his nose buried in my hair as he breathes me in.
Maybe he would miss me after all.
Thirty
The house is a complete loss.
I’m not devastated by it. Since my father died and my mother moved closer to the city with my sister, it never felt like home. Especially after marrying Ada. She’d changed all the furniture and décor. Ignored the garden I’d built especially for her. She used to write to me, telling me about her fantasy of the perfect home, but when it came time, she held distaste for everything.
The problem is that it never bothered me. It should have, but after a while, I grew distant from her. Stayed at work longer, coming up with excuses for why I couldn’t attend a function or why I needed to stay at the hotel.
She never questioned me. Just shrugged a shoulder or responded with a simple, ‘Okay’. I should have known that no woman would be that nonchalant toward her husband working all the time or refusing to come home. It allowed her more time to spy and plot. To execute the Castellanos’s plan of taking my empire.
I sit with Vanya in my lap in the back of the ambulance that sits just outside the gates. She’s clinging to my chest, an oxygen mask pressed to her face. Vanya is suffering from minor smoke inhalation. Nothing major, just enough to irritate her lungs and make her chest feel heavy. The oxygen will help and if she is still having issues, I will have Eric look at her when I take her to the hotel.
“Mr. Volkov,” a nervous firefighter strides toward us, giving Anton, who is standing nearby, a friendly nod. “I’m assuming your wife filled you in on the cause of the fire?” I nod. “Good. We managed to contain most of the flames but not in time to save the structure.”
“My house was equipped with a fire suppression system,” I growl. “That your department recommended. The damage shouldn’t be this severe.”
“We won’t know for sure until we can safely assess the damage tomorrow, but I believe your system was targeted.”
“The explosion.” Vanya’s voice is hoarse and muffled beneath the mask. “After she set the fire, there was an explosion. Like a bomb.”
The firefighter nodded. “Some of the fire patterns, around the west side of the building, suggest that an incendiary device was used. It would have knocked out your system and left the house vulnerable.”
Fucking great.
“Thanks,” I tell him.
He bobs his head. “I’ll have the arson investigator reach out, sir.” He dips his head one last time and walks away, directing his crews to overhaul the house to make sure there are no remaining hot spots left that could reignite the fire. Fuck, there is nothing left to burn, honestly. The entire house is gone. All except the one duffel bag Vanya managed to save.
We wait another hour before the paramedic gives Vanya the all-clear.
“The best thing for her is going to be steam showers to help get the gunk out of her lungs,” he instructs me. “If that doesn’t work, you can look at getting her an albuterol inhaler or nebulizer. Everything else is superficial. She doesn’t have any burns and shouldn’t have any lasting damage to her lungs.”
“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. The medic gives me a knowing look before he starts to clean up the papers and debris in the back of the ambulance.
My secretary, Sophia, has already prepared my penthouse suite at my casino, The French Quarter. Anton opens the back door of the Escalade and I easily slide across the leather seats with Vanya in my arms. Her hazy eyes are drawn and tired. Her lashes flutter against her cheeks as she struggles to stay awake. She’s covered in scratches and soot. Her hair is a bird’s nest on top of her head.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
During the drive between our house and the casino, she falls asleep, her head resting gently on my shoulder, her hot breath on the curve of my neck. It’s a delicious feeling that has my cock growing hard beneath her.
“I’ll see if I can get anything off the remote database,” Anton whispers from the front. “The fucker who did this had to have been caught on camera somewhere.”
