Chapter 15
Kaz’s presence lingers in every room of the townhouse. As I make my way through, getting the lay of the land, I can sense him.
In his office, his cologne hangs in the air. Always my own worst enemy, I decide to spend my afternoon in here.
I set myself up at the massive desk with my laptop and a cup of hot tea. Winter is barreling down on the city. A thin layer of frost covers the windows. The wind is strong this afternoon.
With my sweater pulled over my fingers, I scroll through the local school district’s website looking for job openings. It’s the middle of the school year and I’ll need to get my license transferred to the state, but maybe there’s a permanent substitute position open.
The door to the office opens and Mrs. Popova hurries inside, a cell phone in her hand.
“You left it in the kitchen.” She comes to the desk offering it to me. “Whoever it is called a few times, so I answered the last time.”
Worry pulls her brows together, and a soft frown settles on her lips.
“Oh, thank you.” I drop my feet down to the floor and take the phone, seeing Melody’s name on the screen.
She gives a little nod then leaves me to the call.
“Hello?”
“Sienna. Oh, good. I was a little worried when someone else answered,” Tommy’s personal aide greets me.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Is everything all right?”
“Nothing terrible, but Tommy had a fall this morning. Normal kid stuff, he was riding his bike and hit a rock. Split his chin open unfortunately, so he needed three stitches.”
“Oh no!”
“He’s fine, Sienna.” She cuts me off before I unleash a barrage of questions. “It’s a little swollen and hurts a bit, but nothing the ibuprofen can’t take care of. He’s already back to himself.”
“He’s a tough kid.”
“We had to inform your uncle. Since he’s the legal guardian, we needed his consent for the stitches.”
“Right. That’s right. He didn’t give any trouble with the consent?”
“No. Of course not. It was just three stitches.”
“Good.” She doesn’t know Uncle Vicente the way I do. Luckily, she doesn’t know anything about my family the way I do.
“Besides, what were you going to do, fly to Chicago from New York? By the time you got to JFK, we’d have been done.” She laughs, trying to thin the air with some levity.
“Oh, my god. I didn’t tell you. I’ve been so caught up in—well it doesn’t matter. I’m here already.”
“Really? I thought you said you’d be arriving on Wednesday.”
“The plans changed. I got in last night.” Pacing the office, I run my fingers over the bookshelves. “I’m here now permanently, so you can call whenever, and I can get over there.”
“Oh, he’ll be so happy. He’s been waiting for Wednesday, has a countdown on his calendar and everything.”
“I can’t wait to see him. I was thinking to come over tomorrow? Will you guys be around?” I should kick myself for not calling her first thing this morning. I could be over there now, instead of here, wandering around this museum Kaz calls a home.
“Tomorrow’s Monday. He has school until two, but after that we’ll be home.”
“I keep forgetting he’s old enough now to be in school.”
“It’s okay, Sienna. Don’t beat yourself up. The situation has never been ideal for you.” Or him, but she’s kind enough to leave the last part off.
“Tomorrow. I will be there tomorrow at three, give him some time to get home and relax a little before I get there.”
She laughs. “He’s a six-year-old boy, Sienna. He doesn’t relax until he’s asleep for the night. But I’ll let him know to expect you at three.”
“Great. Thanks for calling. Let me know if anything changes with his chin.”
“Of course. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call and press my forehead against the chilled windowpane. Closing my eyes, I breathe through the ache in my chest. Tommy deserves better.
Melody is an amazing personal aide, but Tommy should have a mother or a father, or his aunt who lives him with him, instead of a paid caretaker.
Tony was a cruel bastard, more so than anyone gave him credit for. Marco always seemed the obvious choice if the Devil came calling, but Tony was quiet in his evil. It rotted his heart from the inside out.
Once the pain turns to anger, I push away from the window. Letting these feelings get the best of me won’t help Tommy or me.
I find Mrs. Popova in the kitchen cutting vegetables.
“Hi. Um. Hi.” I wave awkwardly as I enter the kitchen.
She looks up from the cutting board and smiles. “Hello.”
“Thank you for getting that call for me. It was important.”
“Of course.” She nods. “I thought so.”
“Yeah. Uh, do you think—I hate to ask this—but do you think you could not let Kaz know that I got that call?” I’m probably asking her to betray him, which is likely a death sentence around here, but I have to take the chance.
“You don’t want Mr. Volkov to know about a phone call?” She tilts her head.
“Well, it’s just that it’s a private matter that I haven’t brought to his attention yet, and I’d rather wait until we—well, until I know him a little better before I explain it all to him.” At some point, I’m going to have to tell him about Tommy.
But not yet. Not when I get the strong sense that he’s looking for ways to punish me and my family for what my brothers did.
I can’t give him any ammunition. And my uncle has taught me well that Tommy is exactly that.
“Of course. I understand.” She reaches over the kitchen island and pats my hand. “Sometimes men need more time to adjust. They need a special way of learning things.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.”
Her smile is warm and welcoming and provides the first moment of comfort I’ve had since finding Kaz standing at the altar.
“Speaking of men,” she mutters and pats my hand before getting back to her veggie chopping.
A moment later Kaz walks in, a coat draped over his left arm.
“Here you are.” He glances between me and Mrs. Popova. “Is she bothering you?”
Mrs. Popova scowls and says something in Russian, pointing her knife in his direction.
“She’s not bothering you. Got it.” He shakes his head at me. “You’ve been here one day, and already you’ve turned her against me.”
“No one turns me any which way. I go the way I want.” Mrs. Popova chops a carrot aggressively while making eye contact with him.
“I know.” He frowns.
“You’ll be here for dinner?” Mrs. Popova asks.
He glances at me again. “No. I’m working at the club tonight. I won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“You’re sleeping at a club?” I question. “You don’t have to do that, I can move into a different room. You don’t need to avoid your own home to avoid me.”
He arches a brow. “You’ll sleep exactly where I told you to sleep.”
Anger bubbles beneath my skin.
“Right.” I sigh, folding my arms over my chest.
“I need to get something from my office; then I’m heading out.”
“Oh, I’ve been working in there. I can move my laptop—”
“Working? On what?”
“Just playing on my computer.” I shrug. If he knows I want to get a job, he can easily squash my chances of employment before I even get started on the hunt.
He stares at me a solid beat, like his glare alone will get me to expand on what I’ve told him. Being the youngest and the only girl has taught me many things. One of which is that a look can’t kill, but telling the truth might just lead there.
“Here.” He thrusts his arm out. “You’re going to need this.”
It’s my coat. The one I left at Lush.
“How’d you get this?”
“The coat check slip was on the couch after you left that night. I had someone pick it up for you.” He moves his gaze to Mrs. Popova. “Sergei will drive you home when you’re ready.”
She nods. “Yes, he mentioned. Thank you. My car will be ready soon.”
“It will be ready tomorrow.” He says it with such confidence, I’m sure he had something to do with the timing.
“Thank you.” She nods again, focusing on her chopping.
When he turns to leave, he hesitates like he’s wanting to say something else, but he stalks off without another word.
I find him standing at the desk, staring down at my laptop that I left open. When he realizes I’ve followed him, he lifts his gaze to me.
“You’re looking for a job?” He points to the screen.
“You know I’m a teacher.” I lift my chin, ready to battle him if need be.
I’d been able to work without interference back home, because it kept me out of everyone’s hair. So long as I kept busy, I didn’t get in their way. It was easier for everyone to forget I even existed.
The same can be true here.
“You don’t need to have a job.” He closes the laptop, pressing his fingertips into the device. “You’ll have an allowance, and if there’s anything you need that it doesn’t cover you’ll ask me.”
“An allowance?” I laugh, folding my arms over my chest. “I’m not a child, Kaz. I won’t be asking you for anything.”
He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head.
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” I nod sharply. “I enjoy my work. Once I take the state test to have my license transferred over, I’ll be looking for a permanent position. In the meantime, I plan to substitute teach.”
“And you don’t think I have a say in any of that?”
“No. I don’t.” I roll my shoulders back and straighten my spine. An attack is coming, and I need to be ready for it.
He stalks to me, his eyes blazing. If I look closely, I’m sure I can see actual fire flames reflecting in his eyes.
“You don’t think you need to ask me?”
“For permission to work? No. For money, also no. I can take care of myself.” In a brief moment of weakness, I retreat a step. My back hits the door behind me.
“Hmmm.” He presses his left hand to the door, just beside my ear. “You really think that?”
He traces my jaw with his free hand, his fingers leaving a trail of heat.
I raise my chin more so I can keep my gaze lined with his.
“I’m not a child. I don’t ask for permission—”
“No. You’re not a child.” He wraps his massive hand around my throat, pressing up on my chin until I’m tilting my head back against the door. “You’re my wife. My responsibility. Mine to protect. Mine to provide for.”
He rubs the tip of his nose against mine. “Mine to do with as I wish.”
“Kaz—”