Page 95 of The Wrong Monster

Matilda doesn’t say anything. I glance at her, and her eyes are fixed on him.

Semiyon is older than she expected, I imagine. Older than I am by about twenty years, putting him in his mid-sixties. His skin is leathery from years of outdoor work and hard living. When he laughs, I see two dark holes where he’s missing teeth. There are scars along one side of his jaw.

There is no mistaking what he is. But there is also nothing about him that looks particularly dangerous right now.

He’s just a man grilling lunch for his friends.

Matty quickly wipes beneath one eye, looking away, the corners of her mouth turned down resolutely. I pretend not to notice.

“My mother and I didn’t have much,” she says quietly. “Not until Ed.”

I wait.

“She worked constantly. When Ed came along, everything changed. We had a house. Bills got paid. I went to good schools.” She swallows. “Seeing this is just...” She shakes her head. “Bitter.”

I understand better than she probably realizes. And before I can stop myself, I say quietly: “I did the same thing for Timur.”

Her eyes shift toward me, surprise lighting the blue.

“He never needed to know the worst parts about the business after our father passed. I made sure of that. While I handled the illegal side, he got to have a life that looked normal. Still does. Supervising construction sites.”

I shake my head, trying to stave off the occasional resentment that has seeped in over the years. I’m not sure how much Matilda has figured out about my operation, but she’s smart. Surely in looking through all the paperwork, she’s clocked Timur Borisov as a relative. She has likely noticed that all he does is oversee the men on the legitimate side of things.

From the look in her eyes, it’s obvious she’s adding it all up now.

We watch Semiyon laugh with his guests for a few more moments before I confess, needlessly, “I wanted my brother to have choices I didn’t.”

Matilda looks at me then; something complicated moving across her face. Her hand reaches for mine across the center console, and our fingers brush, but that’s all.

I don’t tell her that protecting Timur came with a cost. Someone had to carry the ugliness.

Semiyon suddenly stops laughing.

His head turns, and the tongs lower slowly at his side. He scans the street, the neighboring buildings, and the trees beyond the parking area. His nose is tipped up in the air like a predator.

My instincts kick in.

I reach under my seat, drop it back to a full reclining position, and drag Matilda’s body over mine before he can see us.

She lands against me, breath catching.

“Stay here,” I murmur.

We wait. I can only assume that Semiyon continues looking. He’s suspicious for some reason.

With his daughter’s body pressed against the hard planes of mine, it’s hard not to feel something. The heat of her skin beneath that thin wrap dress, her knee pressed to my groin. I take a deep breath and her breasts crush against my chest.

Is she as affected as I am? Her face is buried in my shoulder, my neck; her breath coming in little pants.

I let a hand drag slowly down her lower back just to the top of the curve of her ass, teasing myself with the thought that⁠—

“Carefully,” I grind out, needing to stop this now. I’m getting hard and distracted. Neither is appropriate with one of Yuri’s apparently top men meters away.

Cradling her carefully, my abs ache as I inch up just enough to get a look. He’s turned away now, back to his guests. He and one other disappear into the condo.

When I sit all the way up, adjusting the car mechanically, Matilda exhales.

I look at her and so many emotions are swelling through my chest, overwhelming me. I tell her, “I’ll make sure he answers for what he’s done.”