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“And what are you used to, Miss Petrova?”

“Noise. Maids running around, arguing with each other. People always coming in and out, and doors banging open and shut. At home, there was always someone yelling. Like, our housekeeper screaming at someone because they tracked mud onto her pristine floors. Or Dad roaring at the gardener to turn off the lawn mower because he’s trying to work with my brother. Our cook, Igor, wailing from the kitchen because Valentina put too much salt into the pot. My sister’s high-pitched shouts from her room when she finds that I took her favorite T-shirt and returned it stained. The quiet here gives me the creeps.” I finish my wine and set the glass between my legs on the rock. “Why don’t you have staff?”

He’s silent a moment too long, and I think he may not answer.

“I have staff,” he finally says. “I just sent them away because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with so many unfamiliar people around.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, how considerate of you. Especially after having me snatched off the street, stuffed into a van with my hands tied and mouth gagged, and then flown to another continent. None of that was an issue. Yet, you sent the maids away so I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable?”

“Kind of.”

I tilt my head to the side, my peripheral vision aligning with his mouth. At least that’s what I figure. With the moon behind us and low in the sky, he’s hardly more than a murky outline. “What do you want from me?”

“I told you. Fix my systems, and you’re free to go.”

“And that’s it?”

“And that’s it, Miss Petrova.”

I nod and look back at the fishing boats on the dark horizon. “Then give me the laptop so I can work faster.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You really are a jerk.” I sigh. “When will you let me call my family again?”

I feel him shift and hear the rustle of fabric, and then he extends his arm around me. His phone lies in the palm of his hand, the screen lit up with my father’s name.

“Won’t my father know it’s you?”

“This is my private number. Very few people have it, and the pakhan is not one of them. It’s untraceable anyway.” He hits the dial icon, and I gingerly lift the phone to my ear.

“What?” My dad’s growl comes through the line the moment the call connects.

“Hey, Dad,” I choke out. “It’s me.”

“Vasya! Jesus fucking Christ, baby! We’ve been going nuts. Where the fuck are you?”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry? You’ve been missing for days! Are you with one of those punk friends of yours again? Because if you are—”

“I needed a break, Dad,” I mumble.

“You needed a fucking break? Because I took away your laptop? This is the fourth time I’ve rallied the whole of Bratva to search for you, goddamned terrified that something awful happened! I thought you grew out of your teenage tantrums. I want you home. Right now!”

“I’ll be back soon. Kiss Mom, Yulia, and Alexei for me.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me! Vasilisa!”

“Love you,” I whisper and cut the call, my vision blurring as I scan the vast darkness before me.

The fishing boats are gone, and the waters are smooth as glass, reflecting the distant moonlight. The quiet is tangible all of a sudden. No other sound than my breath.

And Rafael’s, so close behind me.

“That was interesting.” Rafael’s voice breaks the tranquil stillness.

“Eavesdropping on people’s private conversations is impolite.”

“Eavesdropping is defined as secretly listening without the other party’s knowledge. I’m pretty sure that your father’s shouts could be heard all the way in Catania.”

“Semantics,” I grumble.

“What did he mean by ‘this is the fourth time’ that Bratva has been searching for you?”

“I have a record of periodically running away from home for a handful of days. The last time I did it, I was seventeen.”

“Your way of trying to draw attention to yourself?”

“I wasn’t trying to get attention.” I sigh. “My father is an overprotective, controlling, and utterly paranoid man who loves his children more than anything in this world. The way he shows that love, however, can be a bit too much to process. Sometimes, it makes me feel as if I’m suffocating. When I was younger, I didn’t know how to deal with it. So a few times, I slipped away and spent a couple of days with one of my friends to decompress.”

”Did it help?”

“Somewhat. It’s not as if I could confide in anyone. You know, I have no idea why I told you all of this.”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“Maybe.” I pick up a small pebble from the ground and throw it toward the sea. It doesn’t reach it, of course, just rolls down the rocky hill, coming to rest buried somewhere in the grass. “Don’t hurt my family. Please.”

“Keep your part of our deal, and I won’t.”

“They didn’t do anything to you. Why should they bear the consequences of my deeds?”

“Because when you’re engaged in a high-stakes game, vespetta, you’re never alone on that playing field.”

Another sigh leaves my lips. “Will you let me call them again?”

“Yes. If I’m not here, you can ask Guido.”

“I would rather avoid all contact with your brother unless there isn’t another choice.”

We aren’t even touching, yet I instantly feel the moment Rafael stills behind me. “What did he do?” The words sound strained.

“Nothing. He just made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want me here.” I slowly scramble to my feet, needing to distance myself from this man. His closeness is so much more pleasing than it should be. “We have that in common since I don’t want to be here, either.”

The ground seems to be moving under my feet, making me stumble as I take a step forward. A thick male arm wraps around my middle, crushing me to a hard-muscled chest.

“Let go,” I mumble, while everything around me seems to be spinning.

Are sens