Chapter 17

The details of her assault. Of how he was conceived. I’m twenty-eight, and I think I might be too young. Nothing could ever prepare me to hear how my baby brother hurt an innocent woman.

“Don’t hurt him,” she continues, her hands folded nervously in her lap. “Make sure he’s taken care of. That he has everything he needs. And please …” Her voice breaks, and she clears her throat. “Please don’t speak badly about me. Please let him know how much I loved him.”

My hands tighten on the wheel, my knuckles going white. I don’t respond or make any move that I’ve heard her, but Molly must feel moderately better just getting it all off her chest because she sits back and doesn’t say anything else the rest of the drive.

When we pull up to the house, I call for one of the full-time guards to come out and carry Theo inside. Molly tenses up when he grabs Theo, but the boy is so fast asleep that he doesn’t even stir.

“You’ll only scare him if you throw a fit,” I say, grabbing her arm.

She glares at me and wrenches her arm away, but she must agree because she stays quiet. She watches through the tinted windows until Theo is carried up the stairs and through the front door.

“Why aren’t we going inside?” She’s trying to sound tough but the fear is obvious in her voice.

“Because I need to talk to you first.”

When she turns to me, her golden eyes are glassy with tears, but none of them leak down across her cheeks. She’s trying hard to be strong.

“About what?”

“Your living arrangements.”

Confusion flickers across her face. “Living arrangements?”

I nod.

“So, you aren’t going to kill me?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” I reach across her and point to the stairs at the corner of the building. “That is my home. You and Theo will be staying there with me for the foreseeable future.”

Molly’s mouth falls open in surprise, and her outward expression mirrors my inward one. I hadn’t fully made the decision until the very second the words came out of my mouth. And now, it seems, I’ll have two houseguests when I’ve previously had zero. Ever.

The idea has merit, though. I’ll be able to keep a close eye on both of them if they are in my house. I have guards who can monitor them when I’m not around, and I can guarantee that they are safer here than in the motel. No one on my staff would dare hurt either one of them, but the same can’t be said of the workers at the motel.

Molly leans down to get a better look at the building. It’s three stories tall and takes up most of the city block. The brick has been whitewashed and flowers stand outside large windows restored from when the building was once a warehouse. It’s an eclectic mix of industrial and homey that looks nothing like where anyone would expect the head of the Bratva to live. That is part of the reason I chose it. The other reason was because of the private entrance.

“My penthouse takes up the first two floors on this half of the building.”

“Maisonette.”

I frown. “What?”

“It’s a maisonette,” she says. “A penthouse is an apartment on the top floor of a building, but yours is on the first and second. Plus, you have a private entrance. That makes it a maisonette.”

I remember the realtor saying that word often when I was buying the place, but I hardly cared about the terminology. I liked the location relative to my office downtown and where I do business. And the private entrance and belowground parking garage meant I wouldn’t ever have to try and smuggle things or people through a crowded lobby and up an elevator without being noticed.

“Either way, you’ll have a roof over your head, food on the table, and you won’t have to pay a thing,” I say. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Molly’s normally dark complexion has gone an ashy gray color, and I’m not sure if it’s from the streetlights or the situation. More likely than not, it’s from both. She looks like she’s about to be sick.

I feel about the same.

I don’t like that I want her and Theo near to me. I’ve never wanted people nearby. Even with Fedor, I’ve kept him at arm’s length. I care for him in all the ways I can, but I’ve never wanted to share a space with him. I like coming home and having the quiet. I’ve always liked being alone.

Except now, mere hours after being introduced to Molly and Theo, I want to protect them. I want to keep them safe from any men Fedor may get to work for him. If he finds out I’m not taking out the people he thinks I’m taking out, he might decide to take matters into his own hands. Or, considering his hands are shackled, the hands of men more loyal to him than to me.

I will deal with that when the time comes, but for now, I’ll keep them nearby until I can figure out what to do. Until I figure out what I have to do.

“Has it been a minute?” Molly asks. “Because I’d like to talk about whether or not you’re going to kill me.”

She turns to me, her eyes clear and her jaw set. I admire her fire, regardless of how inconvenient it might be for me over the next several days or weeks.

“I don’t want to kill you,” I admit.

“But you might have to?” she asks after a long pause.

“Perhaps.”

She nods, absorbing the information. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

The question is dangerous. She has already done more than she could ever know to change my mind. The way she cares for Theo, the way she was hesitant to accept my offer despite her desperation, and the way she has continued to strive in the face of obstacle after obstacle have all gone a long way to make me admire Molly more than I ought to. Certainly more than I’ve ever admired anyone else I’ve ever killed.

If I tell Molly any of this, however, it will show weakness. A crack in the armor she could use to manipulate me. And I can’t afford to be manipulated.

“I want to see Theo.”

I need to exert some kind of control over the situation. I need her to know she should defer to my commands. That regardless of my temporary kindness, I am the one in charge.

So, I walk around the car and open her door, but I keep a firm grip on her arm as we walk up the stairs and into the entryway.

Molly smells like citrus. Like summertime and sunshine, which is in complete opposition to the dark cold outside. I hold her at arm’s length to get away from it, but there doesn’t seem to be an escape.

“Where is he?” she asks as soon as we walk through the door. She pulls against my hold, but I grab her tighter.

“In a little bit,” I say, ushering her into the sitting room just off the entryway. “Let me show you around.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when you can’t find the bathroom in the middle of the night,” I snap.