Chapter Twenty-six
Inna Grace
The space beside me was cold. Either I overslept, or Dmitri operated on some internal system that had nothing to do with normal human rest. The cold told me he left long enough for his side of the bed to lose any trace of warmth.
I turned toward the window. The light coming through was too bright for the morning. It meant I overslept.
I pushed a hand through my hair and scanned the room for a moment as everything came back to me. Someone shot Dmitri. That information didn’t sit well with me.
Dmitri was powerful, meaning people would be after him, which explained how easily a man grabbed me from a dressing room in broad daylight. Danger was another way to describe his life.
I pushed the blanket off and stood. The basin from last night sat on the table where I left it. My eyes moved to it, expecting to see my phone, but I remembered Dmitri destroyed it. I went into the bathroom to check where I left it, but stopped in the doorway, shocked.
The bathroom was spotless. The blood I left at the sink was cleaned, and the towels stained with blood were gone. The room looked exactly as it had looked before last night.
Did he clean it? Or someone else did.
I stood there, staring at the clean sink while trying to decide whether to be impressed or unsettled. But I left the room to find him, to confirm he was still standing. I went downstairs, expecting to find him already gone, but his voice reached me, coming from the kitchen.
I slowed as I neared the kitchen.
“Monitor everything as we agreed,” Dmitri said.
I stepped in, expecting to find him on a phone call, but he was talking to Akim. Akim sat across from Dmitri at the kitchen island, both with laptops open.
I stepped in and cleared my throat. “Good morning.”
Dmitri looked up. “It’s noon, Darling.”
“Oh.” My eyes went to his shoulder. The black t-shirt covered everything, but I knew what sat underneath it. He sat on that stool, busy on his laptop, as though his body had no notes on the matter.
This man had an unreasonable relationship with his own pain threshold.
“Are you hungry? I can make something,” I said, looking between the two.
Dmitri’s eyes drifted to me again. In a second, his eyes dropped to my lips and stayed there long enough to make me shift. The memory of the kiss we shared arrived. Warmth spread through me before I could redirect it.
I looked away. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Are you ignoring my wife?” Dmitri asked, his gaze fixed on Akim.
Akim glanced up from his screen. “I’m fine, miss.”
He just hated me, and the politeness was a performance for the room.
“Is it because you’re fine or because you hate me?” I asked, reaching for a cup.
The kitchen went quiet. Dmitri sat there, staring at Akim in a specific way. “You hate my wife.” It came out less like a question than a charge being read aloud.
I kept my back to them as I reached for the coffee, letting a small smile stretch on my lips.
“Not at all,” Akim said. “I’m not sure where she got that impression.”
“You could have just said coffee would be fine,” I pointed out, glancing back at him.
Dmitri was watching Akim like he intended to address the matter at a time of his choosing.
“I’ll take a cup then,” Akim said.
“He won’t,” Dmitri declared. “He is leaving.” Akim paused before closing the laptop. “Get everything ready. This event is important.”
Akim was already on his feet. “Yes, boss.”
“Find out where my wife’s dress is. She should be getting ready.”
“Right away.” Akim gathered his things, nodded at no one specific, and left. He would have a reason to hate me now if he didn’t have one.
“Am I going somewhere?” I asked.
“We are attending an event.”
I looked at him, confused. “We,” I repeated. “Aren’t you sick?”
A slow smirk settled across his mouth. “If this is your way of trying to avoid attending, you’ll need to work harder than that.”
“It’s not.” I set my cup down and moved closer to him. “Realistically, you should not be sitting at a kitchen counter working. You should be somewhere horizontal with someone qualified, looking at that shoulder.”
He tipped his head. “Are you ordering me around?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t wrong. I had no ground to tell this man anything. Still, the memory of last night clung to me. He had lost too much blood. Enough that he needed proper medical care.
“Being concerned isn’t the same as giving orders,” I corrected him.
“Don’t you remember how much you bled? Because I do.
Alcohol doesn’t close a wound. You need a doctor.
And you should report this to the police.
Two incidents in the same stretch of time, both connected to that auction. What happens if the next one is worse?”
He watched me as if I were entertaining him.
“What if you got killed?” I finished.
“What if I killed?” he asked.
I exhaled a short laugh, rolling my eyes. “You think this is funny.”
“I think you’re being a very convincing wife.” The smirk stayed. His eyes moved across my face. “Let’s say I take your concerns seriously. What do you suggest?”
“See a doctor, rest, then have someone look into who is sending people after you.”
He hummed. “You sound about right.” For a minute, I thought I had finally spoken sense to him. “You sound like a good wife.”
I stared at him, understanding what that meant. This man could make you feel like you were getting somewhere and then step sideways without moving at all.
The doorbell cut through the silence. Dmitri exhaled. “That should be your dress.”
Worrying about a man who had no obligation to worry about himself was useless. Nothing I said landed where I intended it to. Standing in his kitchen, arguing over things he took as entertainment, was not a productive use of my morning, noon, or whatever time it was.
“I’ll get the door.” I left the kitchen and went to the front door. When I opened it, a smile spread across my lips automatically. “Caitlin.”
She stood in the doorway holding a garment bag over one arm. Her smile was bright before I even finished saying her name. She lifted the bag, presenting it. “You are going to love this. It’s custom-made. Only one exists.” She looked at me expectantly. “Can I come in?”
I laughed as I stepped back. “Come in.”
She walked straight through, already talking.
“You always look well in red, silver, or gold. The colors make you stand out. I have a red one today, something that will get your husband distracted in front of everyone, which would be very entertaining for the rest of us.” She kept moving as she spoke, the garment bag swinging lightly from her arm.
“I am genuinely excited to see you wearing this. Do you—”
She stopped when we stepped into the sitting area, where we found Dmitri. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching us.
Caitlin lowered her head. “Boss.”
I was sure she was embarrassed. She probably didn’t expect Dmitri to be here. I stepped closer and rested my hand on her shoulder.
“Can Caitlin come to the event?” The question left me, hoping it made sense. Because I was to attend another event full of people, I didn’t know. I needed someone on my side to chat with.
“Boss, I’m sorry.” Caitlin shook her head quickly. “I’m only here to help your wife get ready.”
Dmitri pushed off the doorframe and crossed toward us. He stopped in front of me. “If my wife wants you there, you’ll be there.” He turned to me. “Be ready and eat something.”
I was shocked. “Caitlin can come?”
He stepped closer and lifted his hand to my face without warning, his thumb brushing once across my cheek. The touch lasted less than a second, but it moved through me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
“Anything for my wife,” he said and walked out.
The door closed behind him, but I stood there, facing it, wondering if that had really just happened. “Is that a yes?” I asked because Dmitri never says yes to anything I ask.
Caitlin let out a warm laugh. “Of course, it’s a yes. Why do you look surprised?”
I pressed my lips together and turned it over quietly. He never agreed to anything, but he just did. I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Shall we?” Caitlin nudged me. “I’ll call someone to bring me something to wear.”
I looked her over. She wore a black dress that fitted her perfectly, with soft pink detailing along the hem and cuff, matching her pink heels. She already looked perfect for the event.
“You look ready,” I pointed out.
She waved her hand. “Please. I can’t walk into that kind of event wearing this.”
“By the way,” I followed her. “What kind of event is it exactly?”
“Rich people’s event,” she said as though that covered everything. “I don’t know the full details, but it’s the kind where everyone who shows up matters.”
I exhaled. “I could just not go.”
Caitlin turned to look at me with genuine alarm. “Who wouldn’t want to go to an event like that?”
She didn’t have to hear it, but the answer was me.