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I closed my eyes as I recalled Nikolai. For the past year, I’d tried not to focus on him, but there was not a day that passed when I didn’t think about him. “He had some…issues….with his mother.” That was putting it mildly. Though now I was sure that I had never had much more than a childish fascination with Nikolai Petrov, looking back, he hadn’t been a terrible person. At one point, he’d believed in a future of peace between his family, and the Blanchis. That all ended when he’d been injured by them, and Katarina Petrov had warped his mind.
Ezra stood quietly over me, waiting for more of the story.
“Can you sit?” I asked. “This isn’t exactly an easy thing to talk about, and you hovering over me is making me nervous.”
Ezra said nothing. He simply sat beside me quietly waiting for me to speak.
“Our families were close,” I started, “and my father was determined that we would bring the families even closer.” It felt as though a knife were slicing through my heart as I spoke those words. Not because of Nikolai, but because of my father. I’d loved and adored him my whole life. He’d been my hero, and I’d been nothing more than a pawn to him.
Ezra’s hand reached out, and his warmth permeated my skin. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “I just…” he trailed off and ran a hand through his wet hair.
I placed my free hand over his, turning so that I could see into his eyes. “I get it,” I told him. “Most people don’t have bullet wounds in their chest.”
And despite everything, I did get it. Ezra had watched his father be shot to death. Seeing my scars was probably painful.
“I just needed to know that the person who hurt you had paid.”
His words did something to me that I couldn’t describe because I knew Ezra would have killed Nikolai if he’d been able to, and the thought of this good man murdering someone because of me made me sick. Ezra was made for greater things. He was supposed to change the city, make it safer for those who needed it to be.
Taking a deep breath, I continued with my story. “His mother was…or rather is…an angry woman. She wanted him all to herself, under his control.” I shuddered as I thought about Katarina. Nikolai hadn’t planned to kill me. She’d ordered him to do so. Looking back, I don’t think he wanted me dead, which was why he missed my heart.
I shivered as I remembered that night. He’d looked at me with such cold eyes that I’d known that he was going to kill me long before he pulled the trigger.
Ezra wrapped me in his arms, and I realized that I was shaking like a leaf. “It’s over,” he whispered into my hair. “You’re safe.”
And I did feel safe. For the first time in a long time, in Ezra’s arms, I felt as though the world couldn’t harm me. It was silly and stupid.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked. There were so many things up in the air. Rome knew my true identity, which made him a liability that I couldn’t ignore. It was only a matter of time until my father found me. Ezra’s candidacy was gaining traction. He would soon be front and center at the attention of the mafia. Plus, there was the fact that his mother wouldn’t allow him to fund his candidacy. My head hurt thinking of that problem, and what it might mean.
“I don’t know,” Ezra said. “I have a meeting later today to figure out how much funding I currently have for the campaign. It might buy us some time.”
I nodded and squeezed Ezra’s hand. “It’ll all work out,” I said.
Ezra gave me a tight smile, but I knew that he was worried. I leaned into him wishing that I could help him the way that he’d helped me, but I couldn’t. All I could do was be here for him. That’s what he needed from me right now, and that’s what I would give him. Ezra might own parts of me, but I knew that I also had parts of him.
CHAPTERTWENTY
“Turn on the news,” Marcel said, as he stormed into my apartment.
“What the fuck?” I hollered, as I grabbed my shirt to cover Annie. She’d spent the week at my place, and clothing had definitely become optional.
Marcel looked over at the two of us and quirked a brow. “How quaint.”
If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “Turn the fuck around,” I ordered.
“We don’t have time for this Quaker shit. Your boobs are great and all, but I’ve seen some of the best in the world.”
Annie was already covering herself with my shirt, and though she hadn’t said anything I knew that she was embarrassed. Despite being quite the vixen in bed, she was still shy. Plus, I knew that she didn’t like Marcel. I suspected it had something to do with the ex who’d shot her. My blood boiled at the thought of him.
“What are you doing here?” Annie asked. “And do you normally barge into other people’s homes unannounced?”
Marcel ignored her and rushed for the remote. “Patty O’Connor is on the news right now giving a press conference.”
I looked down at my watch. “The six?”
Marcel nodded, and I let out a string of curse words. The six o’clock news was the best slot there was. If you wanted all the city to be tuned in, you wanted to be on the six.
Annie grabbed my hand as we watched O’Connor’s segment. He was dressed in a black suit that looked more appropriate for a funeral than a press conference. Annie shivered as she looked at him, and I squeezed her hand.
