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“He’s a criminal,” I reply.
Emma shrugs. “Who’s perfect?”
I gawk at Emma’s cavalier attitude, but she ignores me. “Why shouldn’t you be allowed to indulge in being taken care of? After all, wasn’t this what you jokingly told me you wanted? And now that you have this opportunity, why should you feel guilty about it?”
“I don’t know if my conscience will allow me to accept his lifestyle. And that’s a big problem.” I sit up straight because I know I have to say something important to my sister. “Emma, you have to be careful. There’s a very dark reality beneath the gilded surface of this life, and the veneer of luxury is just that. A flashy surface that hides the ugly truth.”
“I understand, Paige.” Emma takes my hand in hers. “We’re sitting here watching your husband’s hitwoman practice her aim. I’m along for the ride too, but after Dad is gone, I plan to disappear somewhere your husband can never find me.”
“What about me?” I ask. “Will I be able to find you?”
Emma doesn’t respond as she takes a sip of her coffee.
I change the subject. “You haven’t mentioned Eva and that man.”
“I hardly talk to Andrei. He’s not warm and fuzzy. He nods at me and tells me there’s food in the kitchen if I want it. That’s the extent of his comfort zone around me. I don’t plan on marrying one of these guys.”
“Just don’t pry into his business, okay?”
Emma laughs. “You sound like your husband when he’s bossing around Viktor.”
Natasha opens the door, cutting our conversation off. She smiles, but doesn’t question the sudden silence or guilty looks. “This is a good gun,” she says, balancing it on her hand. “It’s time for me to show you both how to shoot it.”
Emma jumps off the bench first and hurries over to Natasha for her lesson. I’ll take my time.
Chapter 16
Paige
I have no idea what time it is, except it’s the middle of the night when Andrei leads me to the secret stairwell.
Cautiously, I follow down the steep circular stairs, using my hands against the brick wall to guide me in the dark. A chill of dread clings to my skin and I feel as if I’ve plunged into the darkness in Andrei’s eyes. He stops at the bottom landing and pushes the hidden door open.
A faint light enters the stairwell. A man turns to face me. With a start, I notice his hand and the missing finger. It’s the man whose death I ordered.
The way is blocked, and he reaches for me as I scream.
Strong fingers take hold of my wrist and drag me through the door. I stumble inside, and suddenly I find myself back in that dark cellar in my cage. A figure is hunched over what looks like a body on the other side of the bars. Somewhere in the dark, Talia is slicing into her enemy as he begs for mercy.
The breath hitches in my throat when she turns, but it’s not Talia.
It’s me.
Knife in my hand, I grin like a madwoman as I approach.
My eyes snap open, and I jolt upright in our bed, struggling with the sheets tangled around my legs. Bright morning light illuminates our bedroom and I look around for Andrei, but I’m alone. The time on my phone says 7:00 a.m. and I crawl out of bed. It’s better to get up than to try to go back to sleep.
The alluring aroma of coffee wafts its way into the room, a welcome distraction after a night of tossing and turning. I pull on a light cotton robe and go in search of the smell. And to my surprise, I find a small kitchen I hadn’t noticed before in his—inour—private rooms.
Hidden behind a sliding pocket door, the galley kitchen is equipped with compact stainless-steel appliances, and it contains something else equally surprising—Andrei cooking over the stove. Dressed down in jeans, he stirs oatmeal and blueberries in an enamel pot as I peek around his shoulder. He’s never done anything domesticated before, or worn anything but a suit.
He looks soordinary, and this unusual mundanity excites me more than any of his displays of extravagance and power.
“Dmitri is taking care of business today, so I can spend the time with you,” he announces, checking on an egg-white omelet frying in a skillet.
“This is a surprise.” I smile graciously, nervous I might say the wrong thing. “Did Eva teach you how to cook?”
He nods. “She kept me close as a child whenever she could.” Andrei leaves the stove long enough to kiss me, and his gaze travels down to my still-flat belly.
