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My heart raced as his body brushed against mine. "Have you had dinner?" I ventured cautiously. "I can make something for you to eat."
"I'm not hungry," came his gruff reply. There was a hint of softness in his gaze, but the tension in his voice sent shivers down my spine. "Have you eaten?"
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, I had some cereal when I came home. I know it’s not much, but I'm feeling a bit nauseous, so I can't eat anything else."
The silence between us stretched, heavy and charged with unspoken words. I wondered if Nikolai could hear the frantic rhythm of my heart.
"Your father—" His voice finally broke the silence, and the mere mention of my father sent a chill through me. "You said you'd never met him."
I shook my head slowly, my mind racing. Why was he bringing this up now? "Yes, that's right. I never met him."
"Do you know what he looks like or anything else about him?" Nikolai's questions were measured and probing.
My hands grew clammy beneath the blanket. "My mother mentioned that he had a slight Italian accent, even though he was American. She also said he was older, but that's all I know."
Nikolai turned to me, his eyes no longer as dark and brooding. "What if I could help you find him?"
A rush of emotions washed over me, and I stiffened. "Don't," I croaked, my voice filled with a strange mixture of fear and longing. "It's of no use now."
Nikolai regarded me intently, his curiosity clear. "Don't you ever wonder about him, or miss him?"
"Of course I wonder," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it doesn't change anything. He abandoned me all my life. Why would I look for someone who chose not to be a part of my life when I have a family now?"
I had missed having a father when I was younger, that was undeniable. But by the time I turned nine, I had learned to let go of those yearnings. And by the age of sixteen, I had made peace with the fact that some people weren't meant to be parents.
Not everyone was fortunate enough to have loving and caring parents. I preferred to leave the past where it belonged—behind me. I was twenty-two now, pregnant, and I had a family. I had Nikolai, and my unborn child had a father and uncles who would do anything to protect her.
Nikolai seemed to accept my response, the conversation lapsed into silence, and a sense of serenity settled over us.
“Can I ask for something else instead?” I asked quietly.
“Ask for anything.”
“My best friend, Emma. I miss her so much and I know she misses me too. Can you let me see her just once?”
“I will when all of this is over.”
I sighed, relieved. “Thank you.”
We lay side by side in the dimly lit room, each lost in our own thoughts, yet somehow comforted by the presence of the other.
As I drifted into sleep, I couldn't help but wonder about the folded piece of paper hidden away in my denim trousers. Who had placed that mysterious phone number there?
My mind drifted to the attack at the mall. I thought about the woman who bumped into me. She was the only one near me the whole time.
I let out an exhale. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but one thing was certain. Whoever had placed that paper in my pocket had placed it there so I could find it.
Chapter 23 - Giselle
Two weeks had passed since Nikolai tried to teach me how to shoot a gun. We hadn’t had any practice since because he always left the house before I woke up and came back after I’d gone to sleep.
He’d refused to share anything about the mafia with me, and neither Vlad or Maxim disclosed any information when they came over.
I’d picked up a routine since then. Wake up, brush my teeth and go to the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate and breakfast. Then spend the whole day reading a book or staring blankly at the ceiling and worrying.
This morning wasn’t any different.
“You’re up,” Arina said to me when I stepped into the kitchen, with a small smile curling the wrinkled corners of her thin lips.
