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Her mouth opened then shut. When she spoke, her voice seemed a little strained. “A year is quite a long time.”

  “Tell me about it.” I forced a smile. “Is um, that not normal?”

  “Normal.” She shrugged. “What is normal?” Pulling away from the counter she dipped her head in my direction. “I’ll see you tomorrow Maya.”

  “Okay.” The door shut behind her blanketing me back into silence as I sat there wondering what in the heck I was going to do.

  My text message alert went off.

  N: Done.

  M: Great.

  What else did he want me to say? Congratulations?

  N: I’ll need your help cleaning up.

  M: Okay…

  N: Must I spell it out for you? Maya. Come.

  Muttering a curse I pushed the phone away from my hand, stood, and stomped my way down the hall.

  I tugged open the door and froze when I saw him tossing away bloody gloves.

  “Maya,” Nikolai said without turning around. “Make yourself useful and replace the bedding.”

  I stuck my tongue out at his back and went to the bed, pulling the sheets from their place trying not to focus on the splatters of blood I saw on them. Why would there be blood in the first place?

  No questions. Right.

  “Curious, aren’t you?” His smooth voice penetrated my thoughts. “I can practically hear your mind working. Careful or you’ll hurt yourself with all your… theories.”

  “Theories?” I shrugged and tossed the sheets into the nearby hamper that said laundry. “Why would I have any theories? You’re a world renowned doctor, you see patients at night, patients who look like prostitutes, and you have absolutely no paper trail on your computer. Now, what do you think I’m going to do with that?”

  “I’m not sure…” His hand moved to my shoulder, and he spun me around to face him. “What are you going to do with that information?”

  “Go to the police,” I blurted.

  His amused smile made me want to stab him. “And say what? I’m being paid half a million a month to do a job I signed up for? Oh, and by the way, my father’s Alexander Petrov, perhaps you have his file on hand?”

  “You’re a bastard,” I hissed.

  “And you’re…” He angled a speculative look on me. “Interesting.”

  “Whatever you’re doing, it can’t be legal.”

  “Ah, so the daughter of a Russian mafia boss has…. morals?” His eyes were mocking as he whispered in a gruff voice, “Such a pity.”

  “Did you need anything else?”

  “Tonight?” He licked his lips. “Yes, I believe I do.”

  He moved too fast for me to prepare myself. One minute he was towering over me, the next he was pushing me against the wall, his mouth inches from mine.

  “I own you.”

  “So you’ve said,” I could barely squeeze the words out, my throat was so dry and tight.

  “I can do whatever I want with you… and nobody would hear you scream, Maya, nobody would even care. It would be prudent of you, to remember who holds your precious life in their hands. What I do here is none of your damn business. Do the job I pay you an abhorrent amount of money for, and when this is all finished, I’ll write you a glowing recommendation.”

  “Will that be before or after you force me to sleep with you like the rest of the girls you had work for you?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  His eyes flashed, “If I wanted you, you’d know.”

  That was it. That one sentence crippled me. Made me feel not only small but rejected in such a vile way I wanted to cry.

  “Oh, and Maya?” His head tilted. “Just in case you can’t read between the lines there is nothing about you… that I want.”

  Tears stung my eyes as I looked down at the white floor. My throat felt thick. He was an ass! Why did I care what he thought? The loneliness of my situation was choking.

  “Will that be all, Nikolai?” I met his eyes again.

  “Yes.” He stepped back. “Now, turn off the lights and meet me at the front.”

  I scurried out of the room, wiping the stray tears away, and snatched my belongings from the table.

  He followed me two minutes later.

  Once the door was locked, his hand was on my back, guiding me to the “safe” Audi, and before I knew it we were driving in silence back to the office building, back to my condo, back to my horrible existence where I didn’t really exist, nor live for myself but for a complete psycho stranger with a god complex.

  So strange, to pass by people laughing and walking home from work, to notice the little things like lights flickering in front of buildings, people holding hands, the stupid Starbucks guy handing out free samples. All of those things were symbols of freedom—something I didn’t have and wouldn’t have for an entire year.

  What had I done wrong? In all of my years of living, I had to have done something horrible to my father to gain this type of punishment.

  Maybe that was it.

  I’d simply existed. And that had been enough.

  I had no more tears left. Only despair as he pulled the car into the garage and turned off the engine.

  I assumed he’d accompany me to my room.

  He did.

  The ride in the elevator was like absolute torture. I stood on one end, he stood on the other. The music was happily chirping in my ears, and I wished the damn thing would just plummet to the earth and let me die.

  When we finally reached my condo, I expected him to leave. But he didn’t, instead, he opened the door, led me in, and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

  What was his angle?

  And why wouldn’t he just leave me in peace?

  “I assume you met Jac?” He didn’t make eye contact, didn’t acknowledge my existence, simply pulled out two glasses and began pouring.

  “She’s sweet…. beautiful.”

  He stopped mid pour, his hand shaking a bit before he set the wine bottle down and braced himself against the counter. “She’s irreplaceable.”

  “I’ll… try.” It was all I had. “To do my best.”

  “They all try.” He sneered. “How about you succeed where they failed?”

  “How about you tell me more about your high expectations so I don’t fail!” I yelled back.

  His face broke out into a smile. “Ah, there you are.”

  “What?” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

  “You need spirit to last… Women… when they lose their spirit, they lose everything.”

  “You don’t make sense,” I grumbled and grabbed the glass of wine he held out to me.

  Being that close to him again made me want to both strangle him and pull him even closer. He smelled so good, and even though his countenance was cold, his body heat was practically leaping at me.

  Nikolai shrugged. “I don’t have to make sense… to you.”

  “Answers to no one.” I lifted my glass into the air. “Got it.”

  “Don’t lose the fight, Maya, even when the war seems daunting… simply keep fighting, let the fight mold you, don’t let it break you. Too many people give up in the face of defeat. I need someone willing to push through that.”

  “I have…” I swallowed and looked away. “For my entire life.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “Which is why I need you.”

  It was the first time I’d heard those words from his lips. I almost dropped my glass onto the floor. Had he just said he needed me? After all the arrogance, all the bullying, taunting, bossing me around?

  He took a sip of wine and smiled that blinding smile that had my heart fluttering way too fast. “Don’t look so shocked.”

  “I am,” I said pointedly. “Shocked you need anything.”

  He shrugged.

  Apparently the conversation was closed.

  “Eat something,” he urged, setting his wine glass down on the granite table. “My offices, tomor
row morning, eight o’clock, remember it’s the thirty-second floor.”

  “Right.”

  “Wear black.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Not like you gave me lots of choices in that closet anyways.”

  His smile was back full force. “You get choices when you prove I can trust you with them.”

  “You don’t think I’m trustworthy?”

  “Your father wasn’t.”

  “I’m not my father.”

  He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Prove it.”

  And that was the end of the conversation.

  He walked to the door and slammed it behind him, leaving me more confused than before, which was pretty damn confused, all things considered. I decided it wasn’t worth the headache—he wasn’t worth the headache. I had exactly three hundred and sixty-four more days of hell then I could go back to normal… back to a time when I didn’t know Nikolai Blazik.

  Back to a time when I actually knew myself.

  The Pier Killer is believed to be looking during the day, attacking at dusk.—The Seattle Tribune

  THE WOMAN HAD NO IDEA WHAT she was doing. It would be so easy to break her—again.

  I needed her strong.

  And I gave her rules in order to keep things within my control. The worst part was that she saw me as the monster when really in this scenario? I was as close to a white knight as she was going to get.

  The elevator dipped with a groan then opened on the floor just below Maya’s. When the doors slid apart, the scent of bleach burned my nostrils. It was a familiar smell, one that held memories, heartache, shame—so many emotions that I found myself wanting to hold my breath and close my eyes—but it hadn’t worked all those times before, it certainly wouldn’t work now.

  The walk to my door felt lonely.

  And being lonely wasn’t a feeling I was accustomed to. I’d always had my work, I’d had my goals, one of which was most likely damning me to hell at this very moment, but I’d like to think she was one I’d accomplished beautifully.

  I’d saved her.

  She just wasn’t aware that her prison—was her freedom.

  I opened the door leading into my penthouse apartment and walked numbly into the kitchen.

  A glass of already poured Canadian whiskey was sitting in a glass on the table with the newspaper next to it.

  I had to hand it to her—Jac never missed an evening, even if she was out doing what she did best—she always took care of me.

  I never wanted for anything where she was concerned.

  Yet a part of me wondered if she used that as a way to keep herself firmly attached to my life—where there was no room for any other female¸ regardless of how harmless she might be.

  “What exactly… are you doing, Nikolai?”

  Jac’s voice dripped with disapproval.

  “Drinking,” I answered in a clipped tone. “And you?”

  “The same.” She chuckled. “Join me.”

  I knew where she would be. Sitting at the piano, drink in hand, eyes blurry with emotion.

  Grabbing my glass, I made my way over to her and sat quietly, my fingers grazing the ivory keys just briefly before reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Hard evening?”

  The hand I wasn’t holding lifted the glass to her lips—it shook violently. “When are they not hard?”

  “True.”

  “I’m not sure about her.”

  And there it was.

  “You don’t have to be sure about her. What she does for me has nothing to do with you and the family.”

  “You like her.” Jac licked her ruby red lips and set her drink down. “That makes her different.”

  “I’m protecting her. There’s a difference.”

  “And when protecting turns into something more?” She tilted her head and gave a slight smirk, the way the moonlight reflected across her features cast a pale glow, aging her, reminding me yet again how frail she really was. “What then?”

  “Then I set her free.”

  Jac leaned her head back and laughed, and the sound chilled me to the bone. “When have you ever been good at setting your favorite things free? Remember that bird when you were small? You named him Fred and refused to let him out of his cage, even when we told you it was safe to let him fly around the house.”

  I shook my head at the memory. I’d been so fearful he’d fly away that my fear eventually killed him—or so I believed. He’d never fully matured and died at a young age because of it.

  “She isn’t a bird,” I finally whispered. “She’s a person.”

  “Oh.” Jac patted my hand. “So now you actually see people as real people, not your own person version of Operation?”

  Something was off with Jac tonight. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s enough.”

  Her smile fell, replaced by what looked like anger, before she shrugged and stood. “We’re both tired, and the night still isn’t finished for me I’m afraid.”

  “Perhaps it should be.” I never told Jac what to do, it wasn’t my place, but I knew her lifestyle wore on her—the secret of it wore on us both.

  “I have a legacy to continue,” she said in a distant voice. “Perhaps you should start thinking about how you’ll continue yours… once I’m gone.”

  “You’re not dying.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her hand.

  “Not yet.” She pulled her hand back and reached for her jacket. “But I will be gone and soon. What will you do then, Nikolai?”

  The question had my heart ramming against my chest. I didn’t know. I still hadn’t made my choice. I still wasn’t sure how I could fulfill my family’s legacy while still keeping my own sanity intact. It seemed I was the sole heir that saw a difference between right and wrong, which was really sick when I thought about it. If I was the moral compass, what hope did my family really have to begin with? I shuddered inwardly.

  “The choice will happen.” Jac gave a knowing nod. “And sooner than you think. Maybe a distraction is good.” She pointed toward the ceiling. “But something tells me she’s hands-off, am I right?”

  “They always are.” I hired nursing students for three months tops, paid them, swore them to secrecy, and let them go. Maya wasn’t a nursing student, and I hadn’t hired her for the reasons I’d hired all the others. It was simply convenient that I could kill two birds with one stone.

  “But she’s different, because you wish it wasn’t the case.”

  “Goodnight, Jac.” I ignored her barb even though it still managed to sneak in between my ribs, hitting its mark quite well.

  Dismissed, she gave a quick nod and walked toward the door. “Careful Nikolai, I’ve never lost you to something as silly as emotion before—and your colors, they’re showing.”

  “I bleed like everyone else.”

  Jac held open the door and called back. “More’s the pity.”

  Once silence once again reigned in my apartment, I moved to my couch and looked around my apartment.

  It was decorated in deep purples and blacks. I had a fascination with dark colors, maybe because it was the only thing that brought me comfort, knowing that the outside was just as dark as my insides.

  It was the only peace I seemed to find.

  White reminded me of what I didn’t have.

  Purity, innocence, and a bright-eyed Russian princess who’d stop at nothing to tempt me beyond my abilities.

  Her room was white for a reason.

  It was a reminder.

  Thou shall not touch.

  Because if I did—she wouldn’t live past the first caress.

  I refused to tempt fate twice.

  And this time.

  It would be my fault.

  Police are still investigating the slew of murders taking place down in Pikes Market. Another woman’s body was found, her reproductive organs stripped from her body and on her face a hollow smile. Women are strongly encouraged to stay indoors at night.—The Seattle Tribune

  SLEEP DIDN’T C
OME—THOUGH I PRAYED and begged for it every hour I woke up and saw the alarm clock glaring back at me.

  My head hurt.

  My brain hurt.

  And after again ransacking the apartment for any sort of way to either escape or put a giant SOS on the window… I fell into a pit of despair. Because I knew, that in the end, I’d signed a contract, my dad had sold me. I didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

  Plus, just like Nikolai said, who would actually believe me? They’d probably think I’d gone insane.

  With a groan I flipped over on my side and finally managed to get out of bed. Nikolai said to report to work at eight, wearing black. I wasn’t sure if work meant in his offices or the one downtown, but I figured asking questions would just get him upset all over again.

  He wasn’t what I had expected.

  Sure, he was gorgeous, entitled, controlling, but every single thing that came out of his mouth was guarded. A part of me—the stupid part—was curious, while the rest of me wanted to push him off the highest balcony I could find.

  The shower did wonders for my attitude, and when I went back into the closet to find an outfit, I admitted that he’d actually picked out some pretty ridiculously cool clothes for me. I settled on a black Diane Von Fustenburg wrap dress with some black heels and grabbed a gold chain from the nearby dresser.

  I grabbed a wool coat, just in case it rained and I was somehow given leave to go outside for a break, and then went into the kitchen.

  And froze.

  “How was your evening?” Nikolai asked, scrambling eggs over the stove like it was the most natural thing in the world, for him to make me breakfast in my kitchen, another not-so-subtle reminder that he could enter and exit my life at will. Even my private space was not truly mine. I imagined it would never be, as long as he was in my life.

  “Horrible,” I said honestly. “And I hate eggs.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  That was it. Just a “don’t lie,” and he continued tossing in chopped up peppers and cheese.

  With a huff I sat on the bar stool and watched his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he moved around the kitchen. He looked good there, comfortable, not as haunted as he normally looked.

  I knew I was being shameless in watching him, but it was impossible not to, the man was so beautiful that it was mentally frustrating.