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Instead, she answered with a firm rasp. “Over there, by the window.”
When the trunk was situated, Logan leaned over, clutching his knees as he swiped his brow. “Give me a sec, and I’ll bring up the rest of her things.”
I shook my head. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, my son,” Artynom said, and turned to her. “Dmitri is here for you, too. Anything you need, just ask if I’m not available.”
My shoulders tensed as I kept walking, still trying to figure out what the hell was happening. And why I knew nothing about this.
After the last of her things were in her room, my father patted her on the back, gently as if she were made of glass. “We will leave you alone to get settled in.”
“Thank you, Arty.” Again, that voice. It was a low whisper with the tinge of an accent I couldn’t quite place.
“Like I said, if you need anything, Dmitri and I are here for you.”
She flashed her eyes over me. “Yes. I am fine. Thank you.”
Directing a smile at her, he gestured for us to leave. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, he headed in the direction of his office. “Come with me.” We walked in silence; the only sound made was our steps that echoed over the Italian marble floors. My mind swirled with questions I assumed were about to be answered.
We took seats at our usual spots, with an unfinished chess game between us. This was how we unwound or had serious discussions. Over a chess game. Ever since Artynom adopted me, he made it his goal to make me a well-rounded man—his words—just like him. I didn’t understand it when I was a grubby kid, stealing anything I could get my hands on in the streets of Moscow, trying to make enough cash to buy a meal when I was starving. Then, I was apprehended by the authorities and sent to the foster system, where Arty ‘rescued’ me and took me in. I guess it was a blessing in disguise.
How did I end up on the streets in the first place? I was living—and I use that term loosely—in a run-down flat with my mother and several other people. Little did I know, it was a crack house. My mother was a prostitute and turned tricks for drugs. I never knew or even understood why she did. How the fuck would you know when you were just a little boy?
However, I learned quickly when the inevitable happened—she died. A fucking drug overdose. I remembered crying my eyes out and holding her, pleading for her to wake up. But she never did. I will never forget that night as I finally fell asleep in her cold, listless arms. When I woke up, I was alone on the shoddy couch. Her body was gone.
“Where is she?” I asked a tall, gaunt man with his shaved head and tattooed arms. For some reason, he was known asAngel, which made no sense, because his soul was as black as they came.
“She’s in heaven. I think. Or maybe purgatory.” He shrugged. “Does it matter? She was a stupid whore. A liability. It’s time you wise up and learn. You’re ours now…”
The clearing of a throat shook me out of my thoughts of the past. Normally, I kept them buried so deep inside they couldn’t resurface. “I know you must have several questions right now.” Artynom leisurely moved his rook.
I nodded.
He kept his gaze centered on the game between us, and his finger tapped the edge of the board, a faint sign it was my turn. I knew it was, though I was clearly distracted. On edge to know why the hell this girl was staying in our house. This was another one of Arty’s silent ways to train my behavior. Patience. Sometimes he was a real asshole. I finally made a move and took one of his pawns.
“Not bad, but you had better moves.” The constant chess play-by-play he loved to do when we played annoyed the shit out of me. I glanced at him in silence. Waiting.
He sighed. “I found Sorina alone on the streets of a rundown neighborhood in Bucharest. She is an orphan, and I pulled a few strings to bring her here. I’m now her legal guardian.”
“Legal guardian?” I asked him in mild shock, not surprised he would take in a child living in the streets. I mean, he essentially did the same for me. I knew his heart was in the right place, but it seemed strange I knew nothing about this.
“Yes. Her mother died in a tragic car accident when she was a baby. She ended up living with her aunt until she passed away several months ago after a three-year battle with cancer. She lost everything, and I couldn’t in good faith not take her in.”
My lips quirked without humor. “Always the philanthropist, aren’t you?” Now, I understood where all the Louis Vuitton came from, as well as other gifts I’m certain Arty showered her with. He loved to help the less fortunate and wasn’t beneath throwing his wealth around to do so, but I couldn’t help being skeptical of how this could be a potential scam waiting to happen.
“She has no one, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.”
I nodded, distracted with my own thoughts about my father’s new ward and how things around here would change. So distracted, I didn’t realize he had me in checkmate until he clasped his hands together and rasped with calm finality. “It is settled. She is here to stay. We will treat her like one of ours. You, more than anyone, know what it is like to be alone. To lose a mother.”
If he wanted to appeal to my heartstrings and sway me to feel some sort of sympathy amidst my skepticism, it was working. Somewhat. I jutted my chin in acknowledgement as I stood and made my way to the door.
“Remember.” His voice carried as I gripped the heavy handle of the massive, intricately carved door. “Make her feel welcome. Safe. Protected. You are now like her older brother.”
I clenched my jaw but answered lightly. “Of course.”
I made my way upstairs, needing time to myself, but when I reached my room, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Across from me, she stood with arms crossed over her chest, studying me with mild curiosity.
I turned away and took a step into my room, closing the door behind me.
