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“What do you suggest? We go snatch her? Rough her up a little? And then what?” Gunsyn asks. “We have no idea where Budanov is, or when this girl even showed up on our radar!”
“Which is where our new pakhan comes in, dear Gunsyn.” A snake-like smile that shows no teeth spreads across Ippolit’s face. Unease worms into my heart at the smile. Something tells me I’m not going to like what he’s about to suggest.
“Budanov doesn’t want to be found,” Ippolit says. “But if he loves his daughter as a father should, then the knowledge that she’s been pulled back into a world he so desperately fled will have him emerging from wherever he’s been hiding for all these years.”
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” I ask.
“Well.” Ippolit gestures at me. “There it is.” When I don’t react, he clears his throat. “A proposal.”
“Announce an engagement between yourself and this girl,” he explains. “Show the world that you have her. And Budanov will come to us like a moth drawn to the flame.”
“And once you get her alone, turn her over to us,” Gunsyn interjects. “I got ways to make her talk.” He licks his lips suggestively. “Or scream. I’m not picky.”
The three of them laugh darkly at Gunsyn’s words. My blood boils as I listen, an overwhelming urge to protect Eden from them rising in me like a fire.
“Enough!” I snap, slamming my hand against a wall.
The laughter dies down immediately, and my brigadiers exchange uneasy glances before they turn to look at me.
“As it happens,” I say slowly. “I encountered her already. I know where she is staying.”
“How fortunate for us,” Alexander muses. “Do tell, my pakhan.”
“You’ll have an easier time getting blood out of a stone than snatching her from there.” I shake my head. “But I have an idea where she might be later.”
“Perfect!” Gunsyn rubs his hands together in glee. “Tell us and we’ll retrieve her for you.”
I fix him with a piercing gaze. There’s no way in hell that I’ll allow a pig like Gunsyn anywhere near Eden. Not after everything he just said.
“No,” I say. “This is something that I will do myself. If we are to announce an engagement, I will not have the three of you mistreat her.”
“Nikolai Gennadyevich, we’re just having a bit of fun,” Gunsyn chuckles, but his eyes carry no hint of amusement. He’s careful not to go too far. “Your father never objected to us saying such things.”
“My father is dead,” I snarl, glaring at him. “And so are his tactics. Am I understood?”
“Understood, pakhan,” he says, backing down, but not hiding his resentment for my decision.
“Good.” My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. “I will have her back here tomorrow, where you can question her yourselves.” I look each one in the eye. “Gently.”
The three of them voice their consent to my plan and file into the elevator, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I step out onto the massive terrace of the penthouse and watch the sun climb into the sky. But I can’t feel its warmth as cold guilt grips my heart. Something tells me that Eden Clark isn’t who they think she is.
But more importantly, I have a sneaking suspicion that by bringing her into my world, I’m about to destroy something beautiful.
6
EDEN
I runup the subway stairs and out onto the busy streets of SoHo, clutching the card from Nikolai the other night. The city buzzes around me, making my heart race with excitement. I’m going to my first contemporary art gallery! It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before, and I feel giddy on the inside while doing my best to keep my cool on the outside.
My gaze is drawn to a sleek concrete and glass building with teal banners above the door, displaying the name “Chrysanthea” in bold gold letters. This is it. I stare at the abstract painting in the window by Kimoto Kaori, briefly wondering if I might actually meet her. I step inside, immediately captivated by her work adorning the walls.
The air-conditioned space is a welcome relief from the humid summer heat. The room is alive with the hum of other patrons commenting on the art on display. Finally, I have found my tribe.
I feel a sense of pride for going out alone and avoiding Mercy’s club scene. The low lights and loud music with strange mentaking creepshots of me. Gross. Mercy took me there and then had the nerve to scold me and tell me to toughen up. I can’t pretend to be a party girl when I’d rather go to the Met.
I can head back to Holtsville if I want someone to boss me around. But just the thought of Holtsville sends guilt bubbling up to kill my excitement. I know my dad is looking for me. I know he says he only wants to protect me, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve betrayed him by running away.
