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And then, there is my husband. Sometimes, I catch him nearby when I thought he wasn’t even home. He watches me when he thinks I’m not looking, but I can feel his eyes on me every single time. The sweep of his gaze is like a light brush of a feather tickling the back of my neck. Every nerve in my system ignites with awareness.
I keep up my charade, pretending I don’t notice his looks. But I’m fairly sure he knows he’s not fooling me and sees through my bluff.
Even so, Drago continues to observe me as if he’s trying to figure me out. At times, he reminds me of a gargoyle perched atop a great stone wall. Always watching. And waiting. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, but one thing I do know is, I like it. I like the excitement that stirs within me when he’s near. And I love sleeping in his bed.
But what would he do if he found out I’m ratting him out to Ajello? I don’t think he would kill me. He might be the head of a criminal organization, but excluding the incident with the plumber, he doesn’t strike me as a violent person. So far, I haven’t seen him hit or even yell at any of his people. Perhaps that’s what he has the priest guy for—to dispose of those who oppose him rather than killing them himself.
I spend half an hour meandering the grounds around the mansion, no particular destination in mind. Eventually, I end up in the backyard. Drago’s dogs are running inside their enclosure, but when they notice my approach, they stop playing and focus their attention on me. Whenever I’ve stopped here previously, I’ve always expected them to bark, but they never do. They don’t do it now, either. They simply regard me. Just like their owner.
Usually, I leave after observing them for a few minutes, but this time, I take one tentative step forward. Then another one. The largest of the three props himself on his hind legs, pressing his front paws onto the iron fence. Cautiously, I approach the barrier and raise my hand to the dog’s snout. He sniffs my fingers for a bit, then licks them. I crouch next to the fence and offer my left hand to the other dog smelling my pants.
“When can we expect payment from the Russians?” Keva asks and turns the page of her thick old ledger.
“In two days,” I say as I approach the dining table and take a seat across from her. “Why the fuck won’t you let Mirko get you a laptop? You can’t keep our financial records in that.”
She looks at me over the rim of her glasses. “I’m not leaving sensitive information in some electronic box where anyone can access it.”
“There are things called firewalls, Zivka. No one can access your stuff with one of those installed.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell that to Yahoo.”
I rub my temples and sigh.
“Sienna came down to breakfast looking super cheerful this morning,” Keva says while a small smile pulls at her lips. “When I asked the reason for her good mood, she said you left her a present. A vase of multicolored glass crystals, which sparkle adorably, apparently.”
“So, she liked it?”
“So much that I dropped by your room to see this ‘glass’ that got her so excited.” She takes off her glasses and grins. “Do you know that your wife uses half a million dollars worth of precious gems as a pen holder?”
“She likes them. As far as I’m concerned, she can use them any way she wants,” I say. “You didn’t send me any pictures today.”
“I haven’t?” she feigns surprise. “I probably forgot. But you should have seen her this morning when Jovan drove her to the mall. She was wearing neon-green jeans and a yellow blouse with ruffles.”
“She paired them with the chicken jacket?”
“But of course. And her yellow heels.”
I furrow my brows. “You should have sent me a picture.”
“Or you could have been here in person to see for yourself.” She points her glasses at me. “You need to stop stalking her around the house, Drago.”
“She’s my wife. I can stalk her as much as I want.”
Keva snorts. “Kovac called earlier. He’s getting married on Sunday and has invited you and Sienna to attend.”
“I don’t do weddings, as you very well know. Especially not Serbian weddings.” Going to a party with live music and several hundred guests, all of them yammering and singing in constant glee, is the personification of fucking hell for me. Two minutes of that shit is enough to turn my brain to mush.
“Maybe you could make an exception? Just a quick drop-in?”
“No.”
“Shame.” She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Sienna would love it.”
I lean back in the chair and imagine my wife in the middle of that madness. Yup, she would be thrilled. “Kovac did mention a new investment opportunity the last time we talked. Maybe we could stop by for a bit. Maintaining good relationships is beneficial for business.”
“Perfect. Make sure you take Sienna to buy a dress for the occasion.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Have you seen all the clothes that woman owns?”
