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“Fuck that. You never know what these assholes are thinking. You need to make an announcement that you are no longer accepting gifts,” he insisted.
I rolled my eyes and threw up my hands. “Fine,” I agreed, more in order to move the conversation forward than in actual agreement.
“Okay, you got a bunch of flowers—was there a card?” he asked, back to the task at hand.
I nodded. “Yes, the other arrangements never had a card, but this one said, ‘My favorite harpist was the best on the stage.’ Someone saying I was the best on stage happens every once in a while. Though, I don’t think that’s really fair to the other members of the orchestra. They put in a lot of—”
“Emmy, who gives a fuck about the other members of the band,” Ivan said in exasperation. “What else?”
“Well, at the time, aside from the quantity of flowers, it seemed harmless enough. But then I started getting gifts delivered to the house. It started small—”
“To your house? You have presents delivered here?” he barked.
I nodded.
“Jesus Christ, Emmy, this psychotic motherfucker has been outside your door?”
“Not exactly. They were delivered by mail, but I suppose it’s possible since he knows the address.” My palms were starting to sweat as I realized the extent of the situation.
Ivan’s lips compressed. “What did he send?”
“A little harp figurine, a classical CD, some other harp related stuff. They all said to my favorite harpist. Since it was all harp stuff, I figured this person was just a major harp enthusiast and was sad I was leaving the school orchestra. But, this week, it got a little more extravagant. I got a necklace with a diamond harp pendant. This time the card said, ‘For My Girl.’ I will admit, I became a little more concerned at that point.”
Ivan’s eyebrows slammed together. “Emmy, have you told Nikolai any of this? I told you if anything out of the ordinary happens, if anyone gets out of line, that you need to tell Nikolai so he can check it out.”
Guilt crawled through me. “I know, but it seemed harmless enough in the beginning. It just got out of control. Other people have given me small, harp-related gifts. The necklace was…unexpected.”
“When did you get it?”
“Yesterday.”
Ivan rubbed his hand over his face. “Okay. Fuck.”
“You think it was Orlov?”
“Yes. Is there anyone else that you haven’t mentioned that could possibly have sent those things? What about him?” Ivan asked acidly, nodding his head in Jason’s direction.
My eyebrows jumped. “Oh, Jason?”
Ivan rolled his eyes, then pinned me with a hard look that had my insides quivering. “Yes, Jason.” He said his name as if it had left a sour taste in his mouth.
I eyed him closely, trying to figure out why he was asking. He couldn’t possibly be…jealous? “No, he’s just a friend.”
“Good,” he grunted. “We’ve got a big problem on our hands, Emmy. Orlov is a goddamned certified psychopath, and he appears to believe you’re his fucking soulmate or whatever such bullshit.”
I flinched at Ivan’s statement for two reasons. First of all, I was being stalked by a lunatic who was an active participant in the most traumatic event of my life. Second, Ivan obviously didn’t have much use for notions of romantic love. I wasn’t sure which one bothered me more.
“What a nightmare,” I murmured, another dual meaning statement.
“Exactly.” Ivan paused, looking thoughtful. “I need to talk to Drago, and we need to come up with a plan. Better send the sax player home for the night.”
Chapter 2
Ivan
As I made my way back to Drago, unable to believe I’d gotten myself tangled up in Emmy again after spending months getting her out of my mind. I knew I was taking a risk coming here today—to her fucking house—but I thought I’d worked her out of my system.
I should have known better.
