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Vasily

The morning is already hot and humid when I arrive at the Lake Placid office. It feels like summer has arrived overnight. It’s that thick Adirondack heat that settles against the skin before the day has even properly begun. The main street is quiet except for regular joggers and a few older couples out for breakfast.

The day is divided into legitimate and illegitimate. A subcontractor trying to get out of a contract with us, likely because of the impending trial and association; a Lake Placid board member who wants his pay increased and will need to be reminded of who makes demands; hiring for the new lodge to open in a month’s time; a new contract for evidence burial at one of my sites up north; appraisal of one of our properties scheduled for this week.

I’m halfway through a meeting with the vacation property team leads when one of the staff approaches me.

“Boss. Miss Pierce asked to be taken to urgent care. I was told to let you know immediately.”

I look up.

“Asked?”

He hesitates. “Demanded, mostly, from the sound of it. But she asked one of the kitchen staff.”

That makes no sense, and judging from the look on the messenger’s face, he agrees. I confirm the information with the staff member she asked and mull it over as my team leads wait.

My first reaction isn’t panic. She has been sick. She threw up yesterday. It makes sense that she’d want to be checked out. The city is a grimy place, just another reason I never made a home there.

What doesn’t make sense is that she didn’t tell me. And that she asked a staff member who would be one of the very last tasked with something like driving her into town.

Ariadna is sitting across the room, and she catches the change in my expression.

“What’s wrong?”

With a wave of my hand, I dismiss everyone else. Summer has just begun; we have weeks to strategize about property efficiency, raises in pricing, holiday discounts. When they’re gone, Ariadna strides over to my place at the table and stands. I tell her.

She goes still.

“Normally, that would have you tearing this building apart. Someone sneaking around like that behind your back.”

“I know.” She’s not wrong; I’ve controlled everything with an iron fist before now. Until Matilda.

“So what’s changed?”

I don’t answer because I know exactly what has changed. I’ve stopped seeing Matilda as a potential threat or as a woman I stole and forced to do my bidding.

I’ve started seeing her as mine. And as someone who potentially wants…what? Me?

Ridiculous.

Ariadna’s expression hardens when I hesitate to answer.

“You’re getting soft.” It’s both an accusation and a warning. She drops into a seat, winged eyeliner applied perfectly. I glare at her.

“Careful.”

“I’m serious, Vasily. You never give anyone this much leash.” She leans back, completely unfazed. “You’ve been distracted for weeks. You trust her. You let her walk around with your people. Now she’s leaving the property without telling you, and you’re sitting here considering whether to worry.”

My jaw tightens. Maybe she’s right.

Maybe I’ve been too relaxed. After all, whatever Matilda is up to, whether she’s truly sick or not, she should know better than to sneak around behind my back. She should know that I was going to find out the very moment she left my territory.

How can I protect her, trust her, if she’s going to keep secrets?

You can’t trust her, an all-too-familiar voice warns in the back of my mind. Not the voice of instinct, but of reason. She’s just another liability; one you’re too infatuated with. You need to get things back under control.

“Find out where she’s going,” I say, running a hand over the stubble already cropping up along my jaw.