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“I have better things to do.”
Milana raises her eyebrows. “Is that right? Do tell.”
I don’t rise to the bait. “Any activity on her phone?”
“Not since we took care of everything. Her boss still thinks she’s visiting a sick relative, so that’s fine. Her landlord has been paid in full, so he has no reason to care where she is. And as for her friends… well, it seems the girl next door didn’t have very many of those.”
I don’t pretend that surprises me. “We can probably credit Adrian with that.”
“Maybe she’s just a wallflower.”
I think back to June sinking her teeth into my hand in the car outside the hospital. “No,” I murmur. “I think she’s the farthest thing from a wallflower.” Grimacing, I rise to my feet. “Fine. I’ll go see her.”
Milana grins, pleased as can be to get her way with me for once. “Have fun.”
“Fun?” I snap. “This is business.”
She regards me coolly. “You and I both know this is anything but business, Kolya.”
“You’ve been in the underworld far too long to say something so naïve.”
Milana just laughs pleasantly and gets to her feet. “Try to hold back all this charm you’re giving off,” she suggests with a wink. “Or the girl just might fall head over heels in love with you.”
Rolling my eyes, I storm off towards June’s room. I hear music when I approach her door. Beethoven. Adrian’s favorite.
I use my personal key to open the door that locks only from the outside. It swings inward on silent hinges, to reveal June with her eyes closed and her arms outstretched, fully caught up in the rapture of the orchestra.
The record player in the corner swoons quietly. I stand at the threshold and watch her. She isn’t dancing, not quite, but she flows and moves in subtle ways as the music swells up and down, like a flower bobbing in the breeze.
For the first time since I laid eyes on her at the funeral, her face is smoothed free of grief.
Then I shut the door with aclick, and all that grief comes rushing back into place.
June whirls around and glares daggers at me, her eyes dark with anger. She reaches out to kill the music. The silence that follows is damn near painful.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she rasps.
“You haven’t been eating.”
Her eyebrows arrow down in a sharp V. “Funny—my appetite kind of deserted me right about the time you put a steak knife in a man’s throat.”
“I can see how that stopped him from eating. I don’t see why it would do the same for you.”
She shakes her head in disbelief and sinks into the chair in front of the desk. She’s wearing black tights and a black tank top that conforms to her curves. But there’s no indication that she’s pregnant. Her stomach is still flat, unremarkable.
“You murdered a man in cold blood right in front of me.”
I admire that her voice doesn’t shake. For a woman who knows just what I’m capable of now, there’s still no deference in her posture. No sign of fear, even though I’m positive she’s coursing with it.
“What was the goal?” she presses when I say nothing. “You invited me to that dinner for a reason. No other man in that room was comfortable with me being there, but you invited me anyway. Did you want to scare me? Was it a threat? ‘Obey me or this is what’s coming to you’?Is that it?”
I lean against the doorjamb, arms folded over my chest. “I protect my people, June. I do what I have to do to keep my people safe.”
“That’s a hell of a way to keep people safe.” She swallows and her throat bobs, which strikes me as strangely delicate. “You’re… you’re not a businessman, are you? I’ve been trying to figure out who you are. What you do, at the very least. As far as I can see, you’re rich, you’re powerful, you’re violent. Which means you’re…”
She lets her accusation dangle unfinished. She wants my confirmation.
I give her silence. That’s good enough.
