Chapter 6 Katya #2
I nod, and she walks away to begin the tour.
I follow her down the hall as she lists off the history of the house and how it was built in 1902 but has been updated through the years.
Honestly, I zoned out most of what she said, focusing on tracking entry and exit points, how many men roam the halls, and the distance between my room and Rafael’s and Enzo’s.
Three years ago, I had done extensive research, pouring over blueprints meticulously so I could easily gain access to the manor, and it seems like not much has changed.
I did notice a few more cameras on the front of the house and I’m sure there are more on the backside as well.
When we reach the end of the hallway, entering a circular landing, she points to a door in the middle and tells me it’s Dante’s office, right next to it, mine.
“Dante preferred Doctor Arden close, but if you prefer something more secluded, Rafael can arrange that.” Nova moves to the door and opens it, leading me into a large room complete with a dark, cherry wood desk and matching built-in bookcases.
It has an odd smell, a combination of old textbooks and cleaning solution.
As if a library and a hospital room fucked and had a baby.
To the right of the desk, there’s an exam table and behind it, metal shelving with glass fronts showcasing an array of equipment, supplies, and medications.
I approach the desk, running my finger over the spines of multiple medical textbooks, reminding me of how I used to fuck with Marianna. “Do you guys have a housekeeper?”
She seems a bit thrown off by the question but recovers easily. “Uh, yes. His name is Abraham. Doctor Arden used to clean up his own space but I’m sure if you wanted, Abe wouldn’t mind.”
I shake the thought away. “No, it’s okay. I was just curious. I’m used to cleaning up my own messes as well.” I round the desk and come to stand in front of her. In the stark fluorescent lights of the office, her bruises appear sharper, deeper.
I can’t help it, I reach out, running my fingertips over the ones on her arm. “You’re covered in bruises.”
Her smile betrays her as it falls for the briefest of moments, before she recovers. “Hazards of the job, but it’s all consensual.”
Consensual my ass. My anger flares at the lie and I push further. “You can trust me, Nova.” I hold her gaze, willing her to tell me the truth. One word and I’ll get her out of this house, fuck the mission.
“Would you like to see the procedure room?” She blatantly ignores me, motioning to a door at the back of the office and I let it go, for now.
Opening the door, she leads me into what looks like an operating room, full of equipment I scarcely would even know what to do with. The only thing I recognize apart from the obvious table and oxygen tanks is a bone saw. I could have fun with that…
Stepping further into the room, Nova speaks up again, “If there is anything you need that’s missing, let Rafael know and he will be sure you get it.”
This is the second time she’s referred to Rafael as if he were the Don. Shouldn’t she be referring to Dante? I simply nod and make a mental note to ask Rafael about it later.
She leads me out of the office, and we go downstairs to continue our tour through the kitchen, dining room, ballroom, cinema room, indoor pool area, and the upstairs gym.
Apparently, in the basement, there is a full-sized gym and shooting range and the garage is on the lower level as well but we don’t go down there.
The entire tour, Nova prodded me with questions about my life prior to taking this job. I could easily tell she was investigating my past, and if I had to bet, I’d say Rafael put her up to it, thinking because she’s a woman, I’d be willing to share.
Smart man, but I’m a smarter woman.
We end in the grand foyer, and I can’t help but ask, “Nova, are you sure you’re okay?”
For a moment, an underlying vulnerability blooms across her features before she masks it with a small laugh. “Doctor Sinclair, this is my job. I may have more bruises than a battered housewife, but I’m paid well for my services.”
Paid?
Before I can censor my intrusive thoughts, they slip from my lips with more attitude than I would have liked. “Is the money worth it?”
I can’t understand any woman who would willingly put themselves through what she has.
Nova’s stare hardens, a hurt aching beneath her anger.
“Is it for you, Doctor Sinclair? How much are you paid to work for the Don? Probably a hell of a lot more than me, yet I don’t see a mark on you.
” She steps back, sneering with disgust. “I’m not a helpless victim.
All we can do is live with the choices we’ve made.
I can live with mine. Can you say the same? ”
Her accusation makes me falter, her boldness striking me where it fucking hurts because she’s right, I did think of her as a victim.
“No, Nova. Some days, I don’t think I can,” I admit honestly, her glare widens before she storms off, leaving me alone in the foyer of the enemy’s house.