Chapter 8 #3
A man with dark hair and an easy smile appears beside Kon, extending his hand with the practiced charm of someone who makes first impressions for a living. "Massimo Santoro. Legal counsel. If Drake gives you any trouble, come find me. I specialize in impossible situations."
I shake his hand, and his grip is firm but brief. Professional. The kind of handshake that belongs in a boardroom rather than a room full of men who probably have body counts higher than their age.
"Luca Valentina." Another man materializes from somewhere near the bar, dark hair tumbling artfully around a face that belongs in magazines or wanted posters.
He gives of white collar crime vibes and you most definitely can take to the bank that man knows where the bodies are buried.
He doesn't offer his hand. Instead, he pulls me into a brief hug that smells like expensive cologne and vaguely dangerous. "Welcome to the family, beautiful."
The word family catches in my chest like a splinter.
“Family? Um, I think you all have the wrong impression. I’m just the hired help no matter how I got here. I should be telling you all if you need anything I’m here to help you.”
They all look at each other and then to Drake. Not a soul says anything for a solid seven heartbeats.
It’s Kon who breaks the silence with a chuckle. “Da, malyshka. Da.” he says in Russian and gives me a wink. I feel I might have missed some kind of joke, but Drake reassures me with, “We are all family here.”
“Got it.” I think. I take another long sip of coffee. I wonder how soon is too soon to take Kon up on the additional spike coffee?
A silent nod from across the room draws my attention to the last of them.
Rowan Volkov doesn't speak, nor move from his position near the window where he stands with his arms crossed.
His light-colored eyes track everything that happens in the room.
He simply acknowledges my presence with that single dip of his chin and returns his attention to whatever invisible threat he's monitoring beyond the glass.
"Katriana."
A new voice, feminine and warm, cuts through the testosterone-thick air. I turn to find a woman approaching, her smile bright and genuine in a way that makes something in my chest loosen.
"I'm Sienna." She's pretty, with dark hair swept back from a face that radiates competence and kindness in equal measure. "Rafael's assistant. Well, one of them. Drake mentioned you might need help getting settled, and I wanted to offer my services."
I like her immediately. Despite myself, despite the circumstances, and despite every instinct screaming at me to trust no one in this building full of beautiful predators.
"I would appreciate that." The words come out rough, scraped raw by the whiskey and the emotion I'm trying desperately to contain. "I don't really know what I'm doing here."
Sienna's smile softens with understanding. "None of us did, at first. But you figure it out. And I'm here if you need someone to figure it out with."
Before I can respond, Drake's hand returns to the small of my back, warm and proprietary. "There’s still more to see and we need time for you to settle in."
The touch sends electricity skittering across my skin, and I force myself not to lean into it. Not to acknowledge the way my body responds to his presence like it recognizes something my mind refuses to accept.
I follow him out of the common area and through another maze of hallways until we reach a private elevator tucked into an alcove near the back of the floor. The doors are brushed gold, unmarked by any floor numbers or directional buttons.
Luca's words echo through my head. Welcome to the family.
Family. The word catches somewhere beneath my ribs and twists.
Gemma's face flashes through my mind, her bright laugh when she calls me on Sunday mornings, the way she signs off every text with a string of ridiculous emojis because she knows it makes me smile.
My mother's tired eyes and trembling hands as she pretends everything is fine while the bills pile up on the kitchen counter like accusations.
They're in New York. Three hours away by plane. Far enough that I convinced myself they were safe from Victor's reach, but close enough that a man with his resources could have someone on their doorstep before I finished signing my name on that contract.
My feet stop moving before my brain catches up.
"Wait." The word comes out sharper than I intend, and Drake turns to face me with one eyebrow raised. "What about my mom and sister? They live in New York. Victor can still get to them if he can't find me."
Understanding flickers across his features.
"I've already put men on your mom and sister, baby girl."
Baby girl.
Those two words strung together hit me straight in the heart. My insides flutter with longing I refuse to acknowledge, a warmth laced with terror that has no business existing in the space between me and this man who has just purchased a year of my life.
I don't know what to do with it. With him. With any of this.
So I step into the elevator when the doors slide open, and I stand beside Drake Moses as we rise toward the penthouse where I'll be living for the next twelve months.
"Baby girl," I whisper, so soft the words barely leave my lips.
Yesterday I feared for my life.
Today I fear for my heart.