Chapter 30
Max
Light rouses me. Not the gray of the storm’s perpetual twilight but actual, direct sunshine. As I open my eyes, the steady drip-drip of melting ice and snow joins the evidence of a storm that’s finally passed.
For the second day in a row, I wake stretched out in a soft, warm bed with Nika tucked into my side. Her leg’s over my hip, her head on my chest, her hand splayed over my ribs.
I could get addicted to this.
The thought drags my lips into a frown.
What am I even doing? I’m supposed to bring her back to Chicago like Roman wants.
And then what happens? I doubt he’d kill her after everything, but the rest of the family might want to. I did until… Well, I’m honestly not sure I don’t still want to.
Instead, I squeeze her tighter, pressing my face to the top of her head and breathing in the floral scent that follows her everywhere.
Fuck it. Even if she might deserve death for what she did to Sasha, I can’t kill her.
Sunlight cuts across the ceiling, from the windows to the door, then at a sharp angle. I follow the line with my eyes, trying to calculate the time of day. Does her window face east or west?
Another glimmer catches my attention.
A tiny glint inside the smoke detector, only visible from this perspective in certain light.
A smoke detector that didn’t go off when the chimney clogged despite being right next to the doorway.
My mind becomes fully alert in an instant, realization dousing me like ice water.
There’s a spy camera in her smoke detector.
What else would it be?
The device must be broadcasting with that little light.
Carefully disengaging from Nika, I slip out of bed. My bare feet hit the cold floor as I pad across the room to stand under the device.
From here, the plastic slats keep the camera hidden. I reach up, pop the detector off the ceiling, and find that the recording device has replaced the battery.
As big as it is, I’m dead certain this is the kind of device that can stream nonstop for days, if not several weeks. And it was trained at Nika’s bed.
Walking into the bathroom, I grab a hand mirror off the vanity. Catching the light from the room, I reflect it over the ceiling, walls, and fixtures.
I find the second camera tucked beside the hinge pin of the shower door and pointed in.
The implications are massive.
Dimitri.
Who else would have access? Who else could install surveillance in Nika’s sanctuary? And who else would be so fucking disgusting?
Mirror in hand, I sweep through the house, hunting for more hidden cameras.
I find the third in the right speaker of the surround sound system, aimed at the entire living room and high enough to see over furniture. Number four is in the decorative frame of a wall mirror positioned to capture the spots the first one couldn’t.
I add them to my growing collection.
In the kitchen, I pick up three more. The gym has five. None in Dimitri’s bedroom or the comms room.
Only in the areas Nika would frequent.
How convenient.
My stomach twists as I return to the bedroom. Nika sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware that the man she trusts most has spied on her entire life.
She stirs as I sit on the edge of the bed. Smiling, she lays her head in my lap and hooks an arm around my thigh. “Why are you out of bed? Come back. It’s chilly without you.”
I shove the fluttery, twisty sensation in my chest to the side.
Survival first. Also, she deserves the truth.
My stiffness must clue her in because she sits up, peering into my hand and the collection of spy cams.
“What are these?” She pokes at my palm, pushing the electronics around.
I ignore her question in favor of one of my own. “How do you know Roman killed your mother?”
“I…” She stops, swallows, and frowns. “I saw it.”
“That’s not what you told me. You came through the bushes and watched him kneeling over her.” I wait for her to nod before I continue. “Did you see the knife?”
“What do you mean?” Nika pushes up and tugs the blanket around herself.
“Lilia was stabbed to death over twenty times. I read the police report. The autopsy. Did Roman have a knife in his hands or nearby or hidden in a sheath?”
“No, but he could have tossed it.” She pauses. The next words come slower. “And Dimitri said…”
She glances from the cameras to me, then around the room. Her pale face has an almost green cast to it.
I push her, just a little more. “Dimitri said. So you didn’t see this for yourself.” As I raise the cameras, the morning light catches on the lenses. “These are cameras. You told me there weren’t any cameras here. Or guns.”
She appears genuinely confused. She’s never questioned Dimitri, likely never thought to. He saved her, raised her, and gave her purpose when she had nothing. Kids don’t question why adults love and protect them. They just accept it.
But Nika’s not a kid anymore.
“I believe you only wanted the locket. That’s what you asked for, what you reached for every time, and what you got.” I hold her wide-eyed gaze. “What exactly does Dimitri want?”