Chapter 30: Tempted by Deception: Chapter 29

I get a sliver of freedom the following month.

It’s not much.

But Adrian keeps his word and allows me to be part of a shelter that serves homeless people warm food during the harsh days. We’re slowly heading to spring, but the air is still cold.

I look forward to the days I can get out without Adrian. Yan and Boris accompany me, but they mostly keep to themselves in the background.

When it’s just Yan and me, we share sandwiches for lunch and then I try to probe him about his boss, questions that he doesn’t answer. I should be used to it by now, but I’d rather talk to Yan than not talk at all.

It’s sad, but he’s basically the only friend I have. The other day, my feet came to a halt in front of a Giselle poster. The ballet is still being directed by Philippe and choreographed by Stephanie. Nothing has changed except for the prima ballerina, who’s now Hannah Max. Oh, and they changed Ryan for another dancer. No clue if he pulled out, and I have no will to get in touch with that part of my life anymore.

When I stared at that poster, it took everything in me not to cry. To force myself to turn around and not get caught up in how the world moved along and I didn’t.

I’m sure Philippe and Steph have tried to reach me, but we don’t belong to the same world anymore. They’re in the spotlight. I’m in a gilded cage. And if I attempt to get them involved in my life, I’ll put them in danger with Adrian.

“If it’s of any comfort”—Yan fell in step beside me after I ripped my gaze from the poster—“your Giselle is much prettier and more haunting than hers.”

I hated myself at that moment. Not because I disagreed, but because I wanted Adrian to say those words instead of Yan.

Shaking my head from the memory, I smile as I pour more soup for Mrs. Matthews, an old lady who likes her soup.

She grins at me, then escapes to the farthest table, spilling some of her soup on the floor.

The center where I volunteer is probably the biggest in New York, and we have several hundred homeless people who show up for meals.

I make Yan and Boris help, too. Something that Adrian disapproves of because, as he likes to remind me, they’re there to protect me, not serve food. Whatever. All they normally do is stand there and smoke. They’re better put to use serving food than doing nothing. Though they look a bit out of place with the white and blue aprons strapped around their suits.

They also don’t shy away from calling the homeless out on their bullshit when they steal. Especially Yan. I swear he has zero patience sometimes. When I asked him how the hell he gets along with Adrian and Kolya, he said he doesn’t most of the time and that they’re too ‘stoic’ for their own good. Then he asked me not to repeat that in front of his boss if his life means anything to me.

I motion at him that I’m taking a bathroom break. He abandons the soup, removes his apron, and throws it at Boris before he falls in step beside me.

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere, Yan.” I groan as I make my way through the tables with him hot on my heels.

“Yes, I do, or the boss will have my balls.”

I chuckle at that image. Adrian is really severe and his calm only adds to his ruthlessness. I’ve witnessed how he talks to his men, and although it’s in Russian, I can sense the authority.

“Glad to see you laugh, even at the expense of my misery,” Yan grumbles.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s not misery.”

“Have you seen him? Also, I’m still not okay that Kolya gets all the fun.”

“Isn’t he the senior guard?”

He scoffs. “Senior grump, maybe.”

I smile. Kolya is always giving Yan shit about smoking, and even though I don’t mind it, Yan has already stopped smoking in my company, because of the pregnancy, I assume.

He stops outside the bathroom door in his wide, ready stance and goes to open it.

“I can at least open my own door.” I motion at his twitching hand. “Go ahead, smoke until I come back.”

I can tell he wants to, but his caution is stopping him, so I take the decision away from him. I open the door wide, letting him see the empty bathroom. “See? No one is here.”

After Yan’s watchful gaze checks every corner, he finally nods.

I shake my head before going inside and closing the door.

As soon as I’m in a stall, a shadow follows behind me. I open my mouth to scream, but a gloved hand wraps around my mouth and uses my body to close the door.

“Miss me, Duchess?”

I breathe harshly against Luca’s palm. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a hat that shadows his eyes. He slowly removes his gloved hand. “Whisper or he’ll hear.”

“What are you doing here? Yan is right outside.”

“I can shoot him if he comes in.”

“No!”

“I see you’re forming attachments. That’s the worst thing to do, Lia. He’s Adrian’s guard, not yours. He’s keeping an eye on you on his boss’s behalf, and won’t hesitate to hurt you if he’s ordered to.”

I know that, but I still don’t want him dead. Yan doesn’t deserve such a fate, even if his boss is a major asshole.

“He won’t come in here unless I take longer than needed,” I bargain.

Luca releases an exasperated breath. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to get you alone? I’ve been trying for fucking months. First, you were hidden away in his black castle, then he put you in a shelter associated with the Bratva, and his men follow you everywhere. This is the first time that tool guard didn’t check every corner of the bathroom first.”

Releasing a long sigh, I murmur, “This is my life now.”

“I’m sorry, by the way.” His brow creases as he makes a vague gesture toward my leg. Luca doesn’t offer sympathy. He’s more hardened than me and lacks many emotions, so I know not to take it for granted.

“I’m still alive.” My voice is clogged as I fight the tears.

“Sometimes staying alive is the worst of it.” His features tighten before they relax. “Tell me you have something on Adrian.”

I shake my head. “He doesn’t talk about his business.”

“But you’re his wife now. Surely he takes you to those inner Bratva banquets.”

“No.” Since that day, he’s never dragged me to his organization and I’m somewhat thankful for that.

“Fuck, Duchess. I thought we agreed you’d bring me things on him.”

“He’s guarded.”

“Then make him unguarded.”

“You think that’s easy?”

“You can do it. Being his wife makes you the closest person to him.”

No, it doesn’t. If anything, we feel further apart than when he used to come to my apartment at night. At least back then, it was about me. Now, everything is about the baby and my despicable role of producing an heir.

While I love my child, I hate how Adrian is using him.

“Tell me what you know,” Luca says.

I mention details that I know, about Sergei and Igor and his daughter, Kristina. I also tell him about Adrian calling someone Don and having conversations with him. I don’t mention Adrian’s family history that he willingly divulged. Luca doesn’t need to know that, and it feels too intimate to let someone else be privy to it.

“All of that is old news.” Luca checks his watch. “I need more.”

“More, like what?”

“His system. What he’s working on.”

“He would never allow me to get close to that.”

“Then force your way in, Lia.”

“Do you even know Adrian? Besides, I’m pregnant, Luca.” I point at the bump in my belly. “I will not put my child’s life in danger.”

The more he grows, the smaller that black hole in my chest shrinks. And now, I look forward to staring at my reflection in the mirror every morning, to listening to music and even reading some books so I can form any sort of connection with him.

Luca’s lips twist. “Congratulations are in order, I guess.”

“Instead of congratulating me, help me leave Adrian.”

“No. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need eyes on him. You can’t leave him yet.”

“Luca…” My voice breaks. “How could you say that?”

“You’ll thank me for it later when you know the truth.” He opens the stall door and gives me a quizzical stare over his shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Duchess. No one else is going to do it for you. Not me and definitely not the unfeeling psycho, Adrian.”

And with that, he climbs through the window and jumps down.

His words float behind him long after he’s gone, settling a weight at the bottom of my stomach.

“Mrs. Volkov?” Yan calls, and when I don’t reply, he follows with an urgent, “I’m coming in.”

I straighten, stepping out of the stall as Yan nearly yanks the door from its hinges. He steps inside, and his critical eyes study me mechanically. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I hide my tremors with a smile.

“I thought I heard voices.”

“It…must be from outside.” I motion at the window Luca left open.

Yan heads to it with purposeful strides, inspects it, then narrows his eyes before he slams it shut.

When he turns around to face me, all of his nonchalance and playful behavior are gone. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want your honesty, Lia. Was someone here?”

“No,” I say with a conviction I don’t feel, hoping he believes me.

He gives a curt nod and precedes me toward the door.

I don’t release a breath. Not then, not after we get home, and certainly not when Adrian keeps watching me all night as if I’m his custom-made pet, trapped under his thumb.

Luca was right.

I have to look out for myself, and that includes surviving Adrian until I can escape him.

If that means I need to provide Luca with any scraps of information on my husband, so be it.