I frown. That’s the second time he’s said that word. “Why do you say that I was a ghost, Jer?”
“Because you were,” he says nonchalantly, his feet swinging back and forth. “I went to see you.”
“You came to see me?”
“Uh-huh.” He points to his right. “Over there.”
My eyes follow the direction of his thumb. It’s a small white building, separate from the house. It doesn’t appear as well-kept as the main mansion. Cracks cover the exterior and vines of ivy grow on its walls, covering most of them.
The place instantly gives me a horrible feeling, like a bitter aftertaste mixed with vomit.
I realize this is the guest house Adrian told me to stay away from, and I have every intention to. But Jeremy’s words about me—the real Lia—being a ghost throw me for a loop. What could be in there for a child to think of it as ‘ghostly’?
I’m about to ask Yan, but my gaze shifts to the left and I freeze. In the main house, Adrian stares at me through a floor-to-ceiling window. He’s behind a desk in what I assume is his office. Three monitors sit in front of him, but his attention is entirely on me as he taps his index finger on the wood surface.
He’s watching me so intently, it feels like he’s standing right over my head and sucking at my soul. I try to break eye contact, but the sheer intensity of his ashen gray eyes takes me hostage.
Adrian is merely observing me, but it strikes deeper, like a demand, a call—for what, I don’t know.
What the hell do you want from me? I scream with my eyes, pursing my lips, but his focus doesn’t shift.
I’m the first to avert my gaze, because looking into his eyes is still uncomfortable. It still resembles being choked by invisible hands. The act isn’t real, but it’s as palpable as the burn in my lungs and the contractions in my stomach.
That’s one step further than when I first met him. Back then, it was only a sense of uneasiness. Now, I can decipher the reason behind that feeling—it’s the terrifying awakening of a side of me I hate so much. Every time I see his eyes, all I can think about is how much depravity hides behind that calm. And how much I crave it, like nothing ever before.
After losing my mother and daughter, I thought I was done with this life. I was done wanting things.
Adrian has proved me wrong.
The man is married, or a widower, and I shamelessly came on his fingers. Twice.
I internally shake my head. It’s not like I came to him or I can walk away from this. He’s the one at fault for replacing his wife so soon.
I continue playing with Jeremy, trying to ignore the way Adrian’s gaze digs into me like he’s peeling off my damn skin, layer by each agonizing layer. I only release a breath when Kolya joins him and his attention is momentarily distracted from me.
Jeremy and I have lunch together and I ask Yan to come with us. After living on the streets for so long, I’ve learned to share my meals, especially with people I feel at ease with. I wish Larry was around, and since I have no way to reach him, I somehow pretend that Yan is his replacement.
The guard shakes his head while Ogla fixes me with one of her judgmental stares for even suggesting it.
Adrian is still cooped up in his office and doesn’t join us for lunch. Something that I want to ignore, but think about during the entire meal.
After I put Jeremy down for his nap, a sense of emptiness echoes in my chest.
Thus far, the little angel has been keeping me busy, but now that he’s sleeping, nothing is able to.
Emptiness is bad as fuck in my case. If I don’t occupy my mind, it’ll occupy me, and that’s the last thing I want in light of the damn nightmares I don’t usually have.
I try searching for alcohol in the kitchen and come up empty-handed again. On my way out, Ogla startles me by appearing out of nowhere, standing in her rigid posture. The woman is everywhere, I swear.
I place a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”
“Have you learned anything about the Bratva?”
“Yes, I’ve made some progress.” While I was reading a story to Jeremy.
“What type of progress?”
“I know that the Pakhan’s name is Sergei Sorlov.”
“It’s Sokolov.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not the same thing,” she scolds with stiff seriousness. “If you say the Pakhan’s last name wrong, Mr. Volkov will pay the price.”
“Isn’t Adrian high-ranked?”
“That doesn’t make him bulletproof. If anything, he’s more scrutinized than anyone else and his punishment would be the most brutal possible to set an example out of. So for everything that’s holy, stop playing around and take this seriously.”
I hate that she’s making me feel like a petulant child, but at the same time, I can see the sincerity in her eyes. Her loyalty to Adrian is her incentive and no matter how much I hate the man, if something happens to him, Jeremy will be fatherless and this entire household will probably fall apart.
That’s not what I want.
An idea pops into my head. Since my role is fairly important for Adrian, I can use that to my advantage.
“I understand, Ogla.” I smoothen my tone. “Is Adrian coming out for a break anytime soon?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t he have to go to work or something?”
She narrows her eyes. “If you’d gotten past that first page in the document, you would’ve seen for yourself.”
And with that, she turns and leaves, her heels clicking down the hall. I really don’t want to call someone a bitch, but Ogla is heading in that direction with flying colors.
After I get the iPad, I wander around until I find Adrian’s office. Since it’s on the ground floor and I’ve seen it from the garden, it doesn’t take me long to figure out where it’s located.
The door is closed and Ogla said I’m not to disturb him when he’s working, so I pace in front of it, then soon give up and choose to occupy my time until he comes out. It’s not like I’m dying for another confrontation with the devil.
There’s a small lounge area across from his office. I lie on my back on the sofa and kick my shoes away, sighing with contentment. One of my legs dangles from the armrest and I use my arm as a pillow as I read from the iPad.
Sure enough, as Ogla said, Adrian’s duties are outlined on the second page of the document. His job consists of finding the right people to bribe for the brotherhood. His critical intelligence allows Sergei Sokolov’s Bratva to be ahead of all other criminal organizations. Since he performs more of a background role, Adrian usually works from home and rarely appears in public.
Criminal. Check, check, and check.
Not that I expected anything different. After all, he did frame me for murder ever so easily.
I scowl at his picture at the top of the page. He’s standing at some grand opening, wearing a tux and holding oversized scissors to cut a red ribbon. The asshole is too good-looking for his own good. He could be a bit shorter or have a beer belly. Hell, he could at least not be tatted. But no, he has to tick the boxes on all accounts.
The picture is mainly focused on him, but on his right, there’s a blonde woman wearing a sharp pantsuit and a firm smile. She’s stunning—so stunning that a weird feeling nudges in my gut at seeing her beside him.
I flip the pages to see if I can find her in the document. I don’t have to search for long. There’s a picture of her in a wedding dress, and an even stranger sense of relief hits me.
Rai Sokolov is the Pakhan’s grandniece and some hotshot in the brotherhood’s company, V Corp. As I study her, a nagging sensation different from the one from earlier takes hold of me.
I feel like I know her, but from where? Was she perhaps in one of the charities from whom Larry and I were given food?
The door of the office opens and I stare ahead to be greeted by a frowning Kolya. Adrian follows soon after and stops short beside his guard, his eyes darkening so fast that I’m left breathless.
What?
I stare down at myself in case one of my shirt’s buttons is undone or something.
“Get up,” Adrian orders.
“Why? I’m reading the document you gave me. If I don’t read it, I’m in trouble, and if I do, I’m also in trouble? Make up your mind.”
Adrian reaches me in two steps and grabs me by the arm, causing the iPad to fall onto the sofa. I squeal as he pulls me to my feet and undoes the knot of my shirt so that it blandly covers my ass.
I’m staring, speechless, when Kolya gives a curt nod and stalks down the hall.
“Don’t dress like this again.” Adrian’s voice is laced with a threat.
“I don’t like the wardrobe. It’s boring.”
He bunches my shirt in his fingers and pulls me against his chest. My hands land on his wall of muscles as my wide eyes clash with his cold ones. “I couldn’t care less about it being boring. You do not dress that way in front of my men, and you sure as fuck don’t lie down like you were just now. Is that clear?”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that no one looks at you the way I do. No one gets a glimpse at what’s mine.”
There it is. The sense of ownership. The subtle obsession that he doesn’t show openly but can be felt, nonetheless.
“I’m not your thing, Adrian.”
“Is that a no, Lia?” His voice lowers and when I remain silent, he continues, “Did I or did I not say that you’re to do as I tell you? Or is your ass in the mood for another whipping?”
I glare at him, then quickly soften my expression because what I have in mind is more important.
Sucking in a breath, I smooth an invisible wrinkle on his shirt, something for which he narrows his eyes, probably questioning my motives.
I really need to do this right. If I raise his alerts, he’ll never grant me my wish.
“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Really?” he drawls out the word, blatantly stating he doesn’t believe me.
“Really. I don’t want to be punished again.”
“You don’t want to be punished,” he repeats, which I’m starting to think is his way of reading between the lines of my words.
“I don’t.”
“We will see.”
“If…” I swallow. “If I’m good, shouldn’t I be rewarded?”
“Rewarded. So that’s what you want. How do you wish to be rewarded, Lia?”
“It’s simple, really. For everything you’re pleased with, I get something in return.”
“You’re already getting a roof over your head, free meals, and immunity from prison. You think you can ask for other things?”
“That was the original agreement. You didn’t mention punishment back then, and yet you included them. I accepted them, so now, you should accept my suggestion.”
“Did you, though?”
“Did I what?”
“Accept your punishments.” His eyes are imploring mine so thoroughly that the feeling of being suffocated returns with a vengeance.
“Would it make a difference if I have?”
“Not really, no, but I’d like to know.”
“If it doesn’t make a difference, why would it matter if you know?”
“I’ll be able to assert whether I should break you in further, Lenochka.” His voice darkens with hidden intent. “So tell me, do I need to up my methods? Or have you smartened up to quit the habit of questioning me?”
I want to dig my nails into his chest, rip the surface open, and peer into his ribcage to see if he actually has a black heart. The more I talk to him, the surer I am that he feels no emotions. That he’s a devil with psychopathic tendencies only meant to wreak havoc on everything that stands in his path.
While I hate bowing down to him this easily, I have a purpose, and antagonizing him is the surest way to prevent me from reaching my goal.
What I show on the outside doesn’t matter anyway. On the inside, I completely abhor him, and that’s enough for my self-worth.
“I am getting used to the punishments. It’s only fair that rewards are included, too.”
“I don’t care about being fair.”
“Adrian, please.” I’m begging but saying it in an exasperated tone. “I promise not to ask for anything extravagant.”
“Still no.”
“Okay, let’s do it this way.”
“That’s one for the day.”
“What? Why?”
“What did I say about the word okay?”
Ugh. “Ok—I mean, fine. Fine. How about if I only ask for one reward a day?”
He shakes his head.
“Once every other day?”
“No.”
“Twice a week?”
“Once a week and I’ll judge whether or not it’s reasonable.”
I squeal. “Yes!”
In my delight that I won one against the devil himself, I catch myself on the verge of hugging him before I remember who he is.
No matter what he grants me, I will not be grateful. I will not humanize him.
Adrian stares down at me with what resembles approval, and I try not to get caught up in it.
Keyword being try.
Adrian’s attention is like a powerful magnet I can’t escape from. A black hole that swallows everything in its surroundings.
But the truth remains—he’s only seeing Lia in me.
And I’m far from being her or her ghost. I’m a shell who needs to go back to her numb state before I become a danger to his and his son’s life.
