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Yes, it’s clear. I’m an idiot.
The stranger slides a new bottle of water across the tall table toward me. “Here you are. You can check it if you want. I assure you, no harm will come to you with me. What is your name?”
“Izzy.” I give him the nickname rather than any hint of who I might be. “You can call me Izzy.”
“For you then, Izzy.” He offers me a smile along with the bottle.
I accept both with a nod and wrench open the cap, swallowing down several cool gulps before I flash him a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate you being kind to me.”
A glance back out to the dance floor shows nothing but unfamiliar faces.
Ricardo is nearby even though I can’t see him. I feel him as though his touch had become a brand on my skin, a tracking device. He knows exactly where I am, and he’s probably slinking around like a snake in the grass, waiting for the right time to strike.
I hope the punch to his gut really got him wincing for the next few days, at least. A cracked rib wouldn’t be the worst thing.
“What brought you out tonight?”
I swallow the last gulp of water and turn toward the stranger. “Nothing that warrants a conversation, sadly. I don’t even know your name.”
A small smile flickers across his face. “Drago Prokhor, at your service.” He cuts a half bow at the waist and strains the button of his suit jacket.
“It’s a pleasure, then.” I hold out a hand. Every part of me shakes, but there are manners. Always manners. Mom drummed them into her three daughters' heads since we were old enough to speak.
Drago accepts my hand with a flourish and lifts it to his lips. Dry, a little cracked. But better than the alternative—wet and lecherous. The slight movement has the silver bracelet around his wrist flashing in the dim light.
I latch onto the sight, the chains linking the bracelet familiar. Melancholic and heart-rending. My stomach drops, and something like distress trickles through my system as I narrow in on the silver piece.
“Pardon me.” My voice is soft, nearly inaudible. “Where did you get that?”
Drago breaks the contact and shifts his attention to his wrist. “This bracelet?” he clarifies, waiting for me to nod before he continues. “It belonged to my wife. Or, rather, it belonged to one of the little girls she watched during her time as a nanny. Someone who was very special to her.”
“What was her name?” My mouth goes dry. “The little girl.”
“My wife has sworn me to secrecy.” Amusement twinkles in his eyes. “However, I am happy to give you my wife’s name. It was Teodora Simona. She passed on several years ago, and it’s been a struggle since then to get on without her.”
It’s impossible.
Absolutely impossible, and yet the image of a face forms in my mind. The nanny, my nanny, brought in for the first few years of my life to help when my younger sister Lucia was born, and Mom found it too hard to deal with three girls under the age of ten at the same time. Not that I blamed her.
I wasn’t the type to handle kids well, either. One or multiple.
Drago studies me. “You know something.”
“That’s my bracelet.” One I never thought I’d see again because just as quickly as Teodora had been hired, she’d been let go. A few years to form connections with her, to take care of me and my sisters and to gift me alone the silver chain, the links made up of twisted silver with little rose charms in between them. It looks too feminine on his bulky wrist and larger than I remembered.
She’d wanted me to grow into it.
Something special, she’d whispered as she looped it around and around my little arm. She’d kissed my cheek, gathered me close, and made me feel like the most important person in the entire world. Which, when your parents are busy running an empire, is imperative. My oldest sister would one day take over, so she had more responsibilities than the rest, even at that young age. And Lucia, well, she’s the baby of the family. Of course, she’d garner attention.
But Isabella, the middle child?
Where’s my spot?
When is it my time to shine?
I glance up to meet Drago's eyes, my own shining.
I’d missed Teodora for years before my mom finally told me they’d had to fire her for stealing. And when she’d gone, she’d taken my bracelet with her. Or so I thought because I’d looked everywhere and, according to Mia, threw the biggest tantrum of my life when we couldn’t find the thing.
