Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SLOANE
His house looks different as we pull into the driveway. Bigger somehow. Colder.
Maybe it’s knowing what he is now, what his family is. Or maybe it’s the fact that I know what I’m being forced to do inside these walls.
Kirill kills the engine, then circles to my side and opens the door. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, and the heat of it makes my body tighten. Like he’s seeing me on that stage all over again.
When he offers me his hand, I take it. His fingers close around mine—large, solid, and warm—and he doesn’t let go as he leads me up the steps, through the front doors, and down the hallway.
My mind won’t stay in the present. It keeps dragging me back to the gunshot, the man on the ground, and the way Kirill never once looked away from me through all of it.
Could he really be different than Barrett and Eli? Is that even possible?
He brings me to the same guest room as last time. The moment we step inside, he releases my hand, and I hate how quickly I feel the absence of him, how my fingers curl slightly like they’re still expecting his.
“You’ll stay here tonight.” That husky tone wraps around me. “Tomorrow, I will have someone bring your car from the club.”
“Thank you.” I fold my arms around myself. “My clothes and things are in the duffel in the backseat, so…that helps.”
His face tightens, like I just reminded him of that and he hates every second of it. “We will also go shopping.”
“What? No, I-I don’t want you to spend money on me. You’ve already done enough.”
His gaze sharpens, all that irritation and worry simmering together. “I did not ask if you wanted it. I’m simply telling you what’s going to happen.”
He closes the distance between us before I can step back. A loose strand of my hair falls forward, and he catches it between his fingers, slowly sliding it through them as those irises drop to my mouth.
My core clenches as I feel his touch, that gaze, in every part of me.
“You do what I say. Remember?” The faint smirk he gives me makes my heart stumble in my chest.
How could I forget?
A yawn slips out of me, my body finally catching up to everything that’s happened, though I don’t even think I can sleep tonight.
“Let me get you something to wear.”
His brows knit when he peers at me, almost like it pains him, and then he turns and leaves the room. The door shuts behind him, and the space immediately feels too big, too quiet, without him in it.
A minute later, he returns with a plain white T-shirt draped over his forearm, along with a white robe and towel.
“This is all I have right now.” He holds them out to me. “That will change tomorrow.”
I set the towel and robe on the chaise and take the shirt. The cotton is soft beneath my fingers and it smells like him, so I hold it a little tighter.
“Thank you.”
But what I really mean is, I don’t deserve this. Any of it. Not from you.
“You don’t ever need to thank me, malyshka.” His fingertips glide up my arm, leaving goose bumps behind. “And just so you know, you will get the money from the auction.”
My brows shoot up. “Really?”
Oh God, that’s a relief. My plan hinges on that money.
“Yes. You signed up for it, and the terms will be honored. But I don’t expect anything from you in return. Do you understand?”
Does he mean sex?
I pinch my thighs, the memory of his mouth on me that night flashing through me. The way he looked afterward, like he hadn’t wanted to stop.
“But it will take the full thirty days before you get it,” he goes on. “My brother Konstantin is very strict about the rules.”
Crap. I don’t have thirty days. I bite back the panic and try to act casual.
“And you will be staying here until we figure out where you’ll live.” His fingers climb higher, gliding up my neck.
“Okay…”
“But I do need something from you.”
“What’s that?”
“My last nanny quit, and I haven’t been able to find a proper replacement. Lev and I…we have been managing, but it’s not good enough. He needs someone consistent. Someone he already trusts.”
“And you’re asking me?”
“Da.” He nods. “If it is something you are willing to do.”
My heart squeezes. “Of course I will.” I don’t even need time to think about it. “I love being around Lev. And if I can help, I want to.”
Relief flickers across his face. “Good.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.
“Lev is in school during the day, so he will need you to drop him off and pick him up, and he needs to be taken to his therapy appointments too. Other than that, it’s pretty easy.
When I’m gone, you keep him company. Follow his routines.
Play with him. Nothing complicated. Just be with him. ”
“I can do that.” A smile slips out.
“You will get paid every week.”
“That’s not necessary—” Even as I say it, I know how badly I need the money.
“It is. This isn’t free work. I would never expect that.” He releases my hand, and I feel the loss of it immediately. “Fifteen thousand a week.”
I choke. “Fifteen… Kirill, no. That’s insane. That’s too much.”
“It isn’t,” he says simply. “You will be responsible for my son. That is worth more than I am offering. Don’t argue with me about my own money, malyshka.”
My thoughts spin around the number and what it could mean. I could pay my sister to take care of Milo. I could start saving. Maybe even leave with him someday.
Just not soon enough. Eli still expects me to steal the ledger, and I’ll have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
Silence stretches between us, and his gaze drifts over my face, my lips, his chest rising and falling the longer he focuses on me.
“I’ll leave you to get some sleep.”
As he starts to go, a sudden thought hits. “What about my job at the diner? And oh my God, the ranch. They’re going to hate me.”
“Don’t worry about any of it.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
A slow, faint smirk forms. “I know your boss.”
“Really?” My head jerks. “You know Mark?”
His low laugh rumbles out. “Yes. I am his boss, which makes me your boss, solnishko.”
What the…
All I can do is stare.
“Wait, what?” My brain trips over itself. “Y-you own the diner?”
He nods once.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
He shrugs. “You never asked.”
My head spins as pieces rearrange themselves.
Why didn’t Mark tell me? Did Kirill ask him not to?
God…
His gaze holds mine. “And I will let the Whitlocks know you won’t be working at the ranch either. They won’t be too surprised.”
“And why is that?”
“Because they know I didn’t want you there to begin with.”
Right. The tension between Jace and him. How could I forget?
“Thank you,” I say again, because it’s the only thing I have left. “For all of this. For saving me from one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. For offering me this job and a place to sleep. I don’t…I don’t know why you’re doing all of this for me, but I appreciate it.”
He goes still.
“I told you already. I care about you. I care about what happens to you. Ti moya problema,” he murmurs, and I feel the power of his words in every molecule.
“What does that mean?”
His mouth tips in that almost smile again. “It means you are my problem, Sloane. Mine.”
The words slide under my skin, both warm and dangerous.
“Now get some sleep.” He leans in and kisses my forehead, and I swear I sense the vibration of a groan in his chest.
I don’t want him to leave. I want him beside me, in this bed, arms around me like he can keep every nightmare away if I just hold on tight enough.
Before he can step back, my hand moves on instinct, my fingers circling his wrist and catching him there. The uneven beat of his pulse jumps beneath my palm as his gaze drops to where I’m touching him, then lifts to mine, something unguarded slipping through before he can hide it.
“Kirill—”
He shifts closer instead of pulling away. His free hand lifts and his thumb brushes over my bottom lip in a slow, careful stroke that makes my chest tighten.
“Ne smotri na menya tak.” The husky way he says it sends my heart racing.
He lowers his forehead to mine, the barest contact, like he needs it to steady himself. The room narrows to just this—his warmth, the faint scent of him, the way his eyes keep falling to my mouth like he’s fighting a battle I can’t see.
Then he inclines his head and drops a kiss to the center of my forehead, his hand cupping my jaw. I close my eyes against the ache blooming in my chest, wanting him to be mine so badly, knowing I’d destroy any chance of that if he ever finds out why I’m really here.
“Spokoynoy nochi, malyshka,” he rasps softly against my skin. “Good night.”
When he finally straightens, his gaze remains on me one last time before he turns and walks away. The door clicks softly behind him, leaving me alone in a room that still feels like him.
I sink back onto the bed, clutching his T-shirt to my chest, with his scent wrapped around me and the echo of his words still vibrating deep beneath my ribs.
He just handed me a way out. A job. Safety. A bed that isn’t the backseat of my car. A future where I might actually get my son back.
And after all of that, I’m still the one who’s going to hurt him.