Chapter Twenty-two
Inna Grace
“What?” I asked Cole, who was staring at me with the expression he reserved for when he had questions.
“Can I ask you something?” He gripped the edge of the blanket. The way he held it told me this wasn’t a casual question.
“Yes.”
“Will we go back to our old house?” he asked. “You said Dad would come back. So when he does, will we go back there?”
He was too young when everything fell apart, and every time I told him Dad was working abroad, Cole accepted it. But he never stopped asking.
“Don’t you want to go back?”
He nodded quickly. “I do. But I like it here better.” His eyes moved to the ceiling. “I don’t want to skip school anymore. My teacher is nice. And we have food here.” He paused. “We don’t starve here.”
The lump arrived in my throat before I was ready for it.
I never let myself think about it from his side, what it felt like to be nine years old and relieved not to be hungry.
He was already building a life in this place, attaching himself to the routine, the teacher, the food, and to the grandmother who called him ‘son’.
“Grandma is nice as well,” he added as if he had read my mind.
There were a lot of things I would not say out loud.
“Don’t worry about any of that right now,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Focus on your lessons and be kind to everyone. That’s your job.”
“I am kind.”
“You are.” I leaned in and ruffled his hair. “And you are also going to look like a zombie in the morning if you don’t sleep. Your teacher is always on time.”
“You’ve never even seen a zombie.”
I gave him my best dramatic glare. “Goodnight, young man.”
He laughed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
I tucked it around him and stayed for a moment after he closed his eyes, just watching his face relax as sleep took over. I dimmed the lights and walked towards the bathroom, but before I could go in, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
Not sure who it could be, I walked and pulled the door open. Grandma stood in the hallway in her robe. She always went to bed early, but tonight she looked as if she had a specific reason for not doing so.
“Grandma?” I stepped back. “Is everything alright? Do you need something?”
She stepped inside, and I really hoped she didn’t come to interrogate me. We had a nice moment during dinner, and that still buzzed inside me.
“Why are you not in your husband’s room?” She asked, and I froze.
That was a good question. The truth was, I could share that room with Dmitri.
I could access my things there, get dressed there, and do everything a wife was supposed to do within those walls.
But sleeping in the same bed with him, knowing what had happened not long ago, was a different conversation entirely.
So I chose to spend the night in Cole’s room, and I needed a reason that didn’t involve explaining any of that.
I turned to Cole, and I was shocked to find his eyes wide open. “Cole asked me to stay. He gets scared at night sometimes.”
Cole looked at me. “I did?”
Grandma turned and looked at me. That face told me she didn’t buy any of that. “I will stay with him then.” She moved toward the chair beside his bed. “Your husband must be waiting.”
“Grandma, what I mean is—”
She pressed two fingers to her temple and closed her eyes. “My pressure. Please. I don’t like to argue at this hour.”
I stood there for one more second, then picked my phone off the table. “Alright. Goodnight.”
I closed the door behind me and stood in the corridor. From inside the room, Grandma’s voice came through clearly. “She is not a good liar.”
Cole laughed.
“Sleep,” Grandma said. “Don’t mind us.”
“Grandma,” Cole’s voice dropped. “She is a good person.”
“Of course, she is. And so are you.” She paused. “How are your studies going?”
I exhaled and left, going to the third floor I had been avoiding. The entire floor was quiet as if Dmitri had left.
During the dinner, Grandma did most of the talking, pulling stories out of the air about Dmitri’s past. Dmitri sat through it, allowing it as if he wanted me to know. Eating together felt normal, a dinner that only a happy family would have.
But when Dmitri’s phone rang and he left to answer it, things shifted. He sat through the rest of the dinner, checking his phone, everything closed off. He was a hard man to understand.
I pushed the bedroom door open and turned the lights on, expecting Dmitri not to be there, but I stopped, a gasp leaving my lips.
Dmitri sat in the chair by the window, a glass resting in his hand. He sat in the dark, making me assume he wasn’t in the room.
“I thought you left,” I said, because it was the first thing that arrived.
He looked at me for a moment. “You want me to leave?”
“No. I mean,” I breathed. “No.”
I looked at the bed. Would sharing it with him lead to something far more than what we did in that closet?
“I’ll take the couch.” I turned to leave the room.
“Get in bed,” he said.
“You should take it. You were here first, and it’s your room, so it only makes sense if you do.”
“What do you think will happen?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I laughed, the kind that came out slightly too quickly. “Nothing at all.”
“Get in bed, Inna.”
I looked at the bed, then back at him. This was going to be a long night.
“Okay,” I pointed at the bathroom. “I just need to get ready for bed. I do this every night. It’s not specific to tonight. Everyone cleans up before bed. It’s a normal thing that normal people do, so don’t read into it or think I’m preparing for anything because I’m absolutely not. I’m just—”
He cut in. “You talk too much.”
“Yes…I mean, I will use the bathroom.” I disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I stood at the sink and looked at myself in the mirror for a long moment.
After scolding myself for embarrassing myself, I cleaned up and came out of the bathroom with my chin up.
I walked across the room without looking at him.
I found the far side of the bed, pulled back the sheet, and slid in.
It was best to stay as close to the edge as the mattress allowed.
The bed was generous enough to fit a small family, which was the only thing working in my favor right now.
I stared at the wall and reminded myself that I wasn’t his type. I only satisfied him in one specific way because it was convenient, and that was the end of it.
The lights went off, and I went completely still. The mattress adjusted under the new weight, and Dmitri settled behind me, close enough that his warmth made its landing on my back.
I acted like I was asleep.
His hand came down on my hip, and I stopped breathing. It moved across my stomach, and he pulled me backward. My back pressed against his chest, his arm settling across me, holding me in place.
Was he cuddling?
“Goodnight, wife.” His voice came from just above my head.
I lay there with my heart knocking so hard I was certain he could feel it.
“Goodnight,” I whispered. God only knew if sleep would come.
I stared at the darkness, trying to determine whether he was really asleep. I could only find out by starting a conversation.
“It was a surprise that you could cook,” I said.
There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” The voice carried that kind of pride that didn’t need to announce itself.
Honestly, he could be proud. A man with everything handed to him who still learned to cook was either bored or raised well.
“Grandma taught you?”
“I learned.” His jaw brushed against the top of my head. “Before you ask from whom, it was my mother.”
Caitlin told me his parents passed away.
“She died,” he continued. “In case you were working out how to ask.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked. “Were you involved with whoever killed them?”
I scoffed and shifted against him. What was wrong with this man? Wait, did he say they were murdered?
“They were killed?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“By whom? Why?”
He sighed. “Enough about my dead parents.” His hand moved along my thigh, a slow trace that sent chills up my spine. “Any reason you weren’t sleeping in this bed before tonight?”
“I was. You just weren’t here to notice.”
“Hm.” That sound told me he didn’t buy that. “I almost forgot you were a pretty little liar.”
“I’m not a liar,” I said quickly, but I remembered I was in this bed with him because of my lies. “It was one lie. One.”
“The first night I came at eleven, the bed was empty. The second night, twelve forty—”
“Fine,” I stopped him. “Fine. But is it even necessary that we share the same room?”
“The same bed.”
“Thank you for clarifying, but that’s even worse.” I shifted slightly. “I understand it’s because of Grandma. But I can take the sofa. I already know where the extra blankets are, it takes two minutes, and then we both have space, and nobody has to—”
“Bullshit,” he said, and I exhaled because there was nothing left to argue and we both knew it.
I settled back into him and let the quiet take over.
The truth was, I didn’t entirely mind this; being held the way he was holding me was something I hadn’t asked for, but I received anyway.
“Do you miss your parents?” I asked, mostly to keep myself distracted from the simple touch and the position I was in.
“No.” He didn’t even hesitate.
I turned to ask more about that and stopped the moment my lips brushed his jaw. His face was close enough that his breath brushed my skin. He didn’t pull back.
“Why not?” I whispered.
“They lived their lives,” he declared. “I can’t waste mine thinking about the dead.”
I lay there and turned that over. Most people needed at least some time and some distance before they could set that boundary. But Dmitri said it like his parents meant nothing to him.
“Were you close?” I asked, lifting my chin toward his jaw again, not sure what was happening to my common sense. His face shifted slightly, and for one suspended second, I thought he would close the distance and kiss me.
My lips brushed his. A bare touch that suggested a contact. All he had to do was accept my lips, but he turned his head.
He let out a sigh. “Sleep.”
“Yeah. Sorry, I just…” The words came out in a tangle I didn’t know how to unsnarl. I stopped making it worse and pressed my lips together, facing away.
He dodged it. He actually turned his head.
I lay in the exact position I landed in and did not move, pretending I was asleep.
Minutes passed. He was probably asleep. His arm stayed around me. I didn’t want to think about it, but why would he hold me this way if it meant nothing? Even if I wasn’t his type, shouldn’t something feel different when someone pressed their lips to yours in the dark?
Dmitri shifted, and I became alert again, but remained still. The weight behind me shifted. He pulled the duvet over my shoulder before he moved.
The walk-in closet light came on, spilling a thin line across the floor. Dmitri’s movements were quiet, making me turn my head a fraction to see what was happening.
He stepped out, dressed all in black, with a cap pulled low. What caught my eye was the mask hiding half his face. He adjusted something at his waist before he moved back toward the closet.
“Get ready to move.” He ordered someone, probably on his phone.
The closet light went out. His footsteps crossed the room, the bedroom door opened and closed, and in a few seconds, the outer door closed.
He left.
I grabbed my phone and checked the time. It was two in the morning. Where was he going?