Ilya shook his head, but not at me, more at his own thoughts. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find out the man I’d been pining for loved me back, and then to have that ripped away hours later. It had been a rollercoaster for everyone involved, but unfortunately, we were at the end of the ride.
Moscow was beautiful.
Ilya didn’t know it as well as he did Saint Petersburg, so it was more like being on a honeymoon rather than him showing me around his old haunts. We had lowered the privacy screen between us and the driver, and the man did his best to play tour guide. Ilya was an attentive sightseeing partner, and it might have been a fun day if I didn’t keep catching glimpses of my sadness mirrored in his gaze.
We had dinner out, rather than with his family. It was a relief not having to make small talk with people who didn’t like us and who I often didn’t understand. Ilya assured me they didn’t talk about me when we were sitting right there, but maybe he just didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
When we returned to the house, it was late, and I was tipsy from the wine. I was leaning on Ilya’s arm and laughing at a joke he’d made when I looked up and found Bron watching us from only feet away.
“The two of you look like you had a pleasant day.” His deep voice held an odd note that sounded a lot like jealousy.
“We went sightseeing, then had a nice dinner,” I replied, aiming for nonchalance.
Ilya stared at him like a dog who’d missed his master but wasn’t allowed to greet him.
“We bought some seeds for the garden. Maybe they’ll grow well on the island.”
Bron’s smile was faint and wistful. “Show them to me later?” He fell into step with us as we headed toward our suite.
“I could show them to you now.”
“I wish I wasn’t on my way out, but Vas has me running an errand. I should be back in a few hours.”
“Oh.”
Bron closed the suite’s door behind us and turned to look at Ilya, but Ilya jerked his gaze away and went into the bathroom, shutting us out.
“How is he?” Bron demanded, eyeing the door closed between them.
“Melancholy.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know that word.”
“He’s very sad, but he’s trying to hide it.”
“And you?”
“I’m sad, too.”
He sighed and pulled me close. The kiss was welcome, but it didn’t fix the weirdness between them or how often Bron was gone. Even if I traveled back and forth between them, when I was here with Bron, would I ever see him?
“How can I live if he never allows me to touch him again?” Bron asked, voice rough.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind.” I doubted he would, but I felt compelled to give him hope to hold on to.
“I don’t think I can stay here, wife,” he whispered to me. “Even if he never touches me again, I need to be near him.”
“But you wanted off the island so much. And what about Vas? He’s counting on you to take over.”
“The longer we’re here, the more I realize this isn’t what I want. And Vas? I knew he was involved in some shady shit, but it’s worse than I thought.”
“Oh?” I tried to look surprised, but after meeting the man, I really wasn’t. A man like him didn’t get rich by legitimate means. Considering he’d left Ilya in exile for no reason, and that he’d made Yana disappear, I assumed all this money came from something I wouldn’t find palatable.
“I’m not sure he’ll let me leave, but for now he doesn’t have much to hold over me, except he knows I care about my little brother. If I don’t cooperate, he might cut off Ilya’s support, or sell the island out from under the two of you.” He sighed. “Shit. I almost forgot—Vas wants to meet with you. I told him I would walk you to his office when you came back, if I hadn’t left by then. Five minutes later and I would have missed you entirely.”
“He mentioned something about me managing Ilya’s allowance, but I assumed he was joking.”
“Probably not. I’ve been managing it all these years.”
“He can’t manage it himself?”
“I don’t know. No one has ever let him try.” He gave me a rueful smile. “You can’t tell the man you work for how to run his family. I didn’t know at the time I could speak for him as a big brother.”
I could tell he’d meant it as a joke, but it fell flat, and both of us stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment.
“Let me tell Ilya I’m going.”
Hopefully, he’d be able to hear me over the fan. “Ilya? Vas wants to speak to me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He didn’t respond, but that wasn’t unexpected. Being around Bron still hurt him.
I found a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled a note, then left it on the coffee table, hoping he’d see it if he came out in the next few minutes. I doubted the meeting would last long.
Bron walked me through the mansion, taking me on a twisting path I had to work on remembering. It was strange walking with him and yet knowing I couldn’t touch him in case someone came around the corner and saw us together. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass Ilya in front of his family, especially since they still weren’t treating him with much respect. If I did travel back and forth to visit Bron, though, it would only be a matter of time before their family pieced together my relationship with him.
By the time we reached the office, I was completely turned around. If worse came to worse, I could stop a servant and ask for directions back.
Bron rapped on an ornately carved door and waited for permission before opening it. Vas’s office was large and modern, and he sat at a sleek, steel-and-glass desk that faced the door. He closed a file in front of him and slid it aside, then rose to greet us.
“Dominika, was it?”