Chapter Sixteen
Sarah
After Mr. Moss was murdered, I’d taken a job in the advertising company my friend Mira had told me about.
My new boss was understanding, which was good, as I’d expected to be given my marching orders when I told her that I needed to take time off for the trial.
Instead, she gave me the entire week off if I needed it.
Today was Saturday, so I was looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend.
Well, as relaxing as it could be given I was staying with Alexis’s father who was probably the head of a criminal enterprise.
I opened my eyes to see a mess of black hair in front of me.
It was the back of Alexis’s head, her hair the same dark color as her father’s.
Did he see the likeness between them? I knew that now we’d reconnected I should tell him about her, but part of me wanted to stay silent.
Did I want my daughter to be caught up in his dangerous world?
She facing away from me, but I could tell she was still asleep because of the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath. She’d slept well last night, despite being in a strange place.
Sitting up, I looked around the guest room.
It was a basic setup. One king-sized bed, one dresser, and a TV.
There was an attached bathroom, and the window had a view of the street in front of the building.
Getting out of bed without waking Alexis, I went to the window and looked out, squinting as the morning sun streamed in through the gap in the curtains.
I looked around, taking in the cars parked on the street and the people coming and going from other homes. I didn’t see any indication of men watching the house, but I assumed what Dmitri said was the truth.
He must have lived a dangerous life, and I didn’t want to believe I was now a part of that madness, but I had to face the truth. The men at the grocery store made it clear that I didn’t have a choice in any of this. I was on their radar, and it was a dangerous place to be.
Turning back to the bed, I smiled at my daughter’s sleeping form curled up right in the middle of the bed. I might not have been happy about anything that happened yesterday, but I had to admit to myself that I felt lucky to be here, to be safe.
I wasn’t sure why Dmitri was helping us, but it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What was important was that I didn’t have to fear men in ski masks kidnapping my daughter while we were here.
It wasn’t a long-term solution, and I’d have to decide what to do about my testimony, but I had a couple of days until we were back in court.
I had time to figure out what I was going to do.
I didn’t want to lie, to frame an innocent man.
Okay, Dmitri was far from innocent, but he had nothing to do with my boss’s murder.
Changing into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I slipped out of the room, leaving Alexis there to rest since her sleep was interrupted last night.
I wasn’t actually concerned about her falling down the stairs—my mother’s house had stairs, so she was used to them—like I told Dmitri.
I just didn’t want him to argue with me about staying in the same room with her.
But I’d seen the way the color drained from his face when I said that. He was worried about it. Hell, he wanted to child proof his home because he was so worried about something happening to Alexis.
I still wasn’t sure I could trust him, but seeing the concern he had about my little girl brought me one step closer to it.
I headed downstairs, drawn to the first floor by the smell of coffee and bacon. I didn’t peg Dmitri as the type to cook much, but I didn’t know much about him, despite our history. All I knew was that I was starving and needed a caffeine fix more than I ever had before.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the kitchen, I found a stranger standing at the stove instead of Dmitri. The woman cooking breakfast was older, probably in her sixties, based on her gray hair and the wrinkles on her face. She looked up at me with a bright smile.
“Hi there!” She was chipper, even first thing in the morning. “You must be Sarah.”
“Uh, yeah. And you are…?”
“Veronica, dear. But everyone calls me Ronnie. I’m the housekeeper. I also do most of the cooking. Dmitri said you have a little girl, is that right?”
“Yeah.” I looked around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Where is Dmitri?”
“I’m sure he’s still asleep. He’s quite a disciplined young man, but he does like to sleep in on the weekends.”
She spoke of Dmitri with a fondness that made me think they were closer than just the typical employer and employee relationship.
“Does your daughter like pancakes?” she asked, whisking something in a bowl. Probably batter.
“She loves them.”
“Who doesn’t, right?” She chuckled. I couldn’t quite imagine this bright energy around Dmitri’s intense ass on a daily basis.
“Can I help myself to some coffee?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Please, go ahead. I had to stop at the store before coming in to get some breakfast food, so I picked up a few different coffee creamers too. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I grabbed hazelnut, French vanilla, and my personal favorite, chocolate caramel.”
“Sounds decadent,” I said, grabbing the chocolate caramel creamer out of the refrigerator. “Wait a minute, what do you mean you had to go to the store for breakfast food?”
“I don’t usually come in until around noon because Dmitri doesn’t eat breakfast, but he texted me last night, asking me to come in early to make breakfast for the two of you.”
I stared at her blankly, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of him doing that.
It was so… thoughtful. I tried to remind myself that he was a dangerous man.
He might not have admitted to being the head of the Bratva when I asked last night, but I saw the truth in his eyes.
That should have been enough to keep me from softening toward him, but I wasn’t sure it would be.
“I’m sorry you had to come in early,” I said, finding my voice after a minute.
“Oh, don’t be.” She started ladling pancake batter onto a hot griddle. “I’m happy to have more people to cook for. He’d deny this, but Dmitri is quite the picky eater.”
“I am not,” a low voice grumbled from behind me.
Turning, I saw that Dmitri was standing there in a pair of basketball shorts.
Only a pair of basketball shorts. They sat low on his hips, showing off muscles I’d thought about many times over the last four years.
The rock-hard pecs, defined abs, and that delicious V-shape at his hips.
My mouth watered as I imagined running my tongue over every inch of his chest and down his stomach. Then I could slide those shorts down enough to reveal his big—
“Mommy!”
Alexis was standing at his side, and I was ashamed that I didn’t notice her immediately.
“I was coming out of my bedroom to head downstairs to my gym when she came out of your bedroom. Turns out, she can slide down the stairs on her butt.”
He shot me an accusing glare, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter.
“Don’t blame me if you freaked out for nothing,” I said.
Ronnie had a smile on her face as she continued cooking the pancakes. Alexis wandered into the kitchen, looking up at her.
“Hi, darlin’. I’m Ronnie.”
“Pancakes?” Alexis asked, popping up onto her tiptoes to see what Ronnie was cooking.
“Yes, indeed, Little Miss. You hungry.”
“Yes!” Alexis turned back to Dmitri, who was pouring himself a cup of black coffee. “Breakfast?”
He looked down at her with his eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah…”
“Come.” She took his hand, and his eyes met mine for a moment. He looked charmed and a little lost all at once.
“I think she wants you to join us,” I said, wondering what he’d do.
He didn’t even hesitate. Carrying his coffee mug in one hand and holding Alexis’s with the other, he walked with her into the dining room. I looked at Ronnie, who seemed stunned.
“Wow. That little girl already has him wrapped around her finger.”
My heart fluttered at the thought. I followed them into the dining room, but from behind, the sight of Dmitri without a shirt on wasn’t as exciting. Instead, I was horrified as I caught sight of what looked like thin scars up and down his back.
My god. Was he whipped? I didn’t remember seeing that on our one night together.
Curiosity and pity rose up inside me, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate either, so I pretended I didn’t see a thing.
Alexis chatted with him at the table, this time talking about everything she saw in the house. The colorful artwork on the wall, the squishy cushion on the dining room chair, the chandelier hanging above the table.
Dmitri engaged with her through the entire meal, asking her questions and listening to her answers, even when she babbled or went off on a tangent. He had nothing but patience with her, and my heart swelled.
So much for not softening toward him. I couldn’t keep that from happening, no matter what, not while he was being such a dream with Alexis.
He didn’t even seem annoyed when she knocked her plate onto the floor, making a huge mess of syrup and butter on the rug under the table.
“She’s used to having a highchair,” I explained as Ronnie rushed in and picked up the plate, promising to return with more food for her.
“I’ll buy one today,” Dmitri said.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I’ll buy one. Don’t worry about it.”
I was starting to recognize the stubborn set of his jaw. This man didn’t back down once he’d made up his mind about something, but I wasn’t going to complain. If he wanted to child proof the place and buy a highchair and be wonderful with our daughter, why should I fight that?
The rush of affection I felt for him was an answer to that unspoken question, but like so many things in life, I was starting to realize that it was out of my control.