With This Secret

Her eyes widened and she hurried over to me. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

My gut twisted in what felt like painful disappointment. “Nope, nothing did,” I said, as I hurried away towards the bathroom with Biscuit following on his non-existent legs. If I thought that would end the conversation I was sorely wrong.

Aldie came after me, her face determined and curious. “Bianca? What happened?” she persisted.

I pulled out my toothbrush from the cabinet. “Did you see him on your way in?”

“Yeah,” she answered, rightfully surprised. “He opened the door for me. With this house, one would assume that he has an army of servants ready to do his bidding.”

“He does,” I said. “They are very discreet. I have only met his housekeeper.”

“Well, as we’ve found out so far, discretion is his strong suit, or perhaps the rule of his trade. You can’t be one of the most notorious Mafia families in the country and afford to have any loose mouths around you.” She chewed at her lip. “Strange, but he still seems to be the same extraordinarily handsome, kind, normal guy we knew, despite the new light on his identity.”

“There’s nothing same about him,” I mumbled through the toothbrush in my mouth.

She wrinkled her nose at me in the mirror. “I didn’t catch that,” she said. “Same or sane?”

I didn’t bother clarifying.

She chuckled. “Are you still pissed at him?”

I spat into the sink. “No. My heart says, why didn’t he damn well contact me when he got better, but my head says, how can I be mad at him? He showed me his wounds and if not for him, I would be doing God only knows what kind of degrading thing with Bogdan by now. Bogdan already warned me in no uncertain terms that those things would repulse me, but I would have to obey him at all times.” I couldn’t help the shudder that ran through me. Even the thought of touching him made me feel dirty. I started to take off my clothes to get into the shower.

Aldie pulled a disgusted expression. “That sounds like a fate worse than death. Let’s not talk about that now. Levan has offered to help make breakfast. What do you want?”

I opened the shower cubicle door. “I think we should minimize how much we take from him, don’t you?”

She waved her hand dismissively and turned to take her leave. “Nonsense,” she said in a totally fake English accent. “You’ll eat whatever we make. C’mon, Biscuit.”

12

Levan

“Aldie, I think that’s enough.”

“The recipe says two cups.”

“That’s three,” I pointed out.

“Two, three, what’s the difference?” she asked airily.

“Not everyone likes it that sweet,” I found myself saying.

Her head whirled around towards me. Her eyes were shining and there was a gotcha expression on her face. “Hmmm … what about dried berries? Are we going to add some of those in?”

Bianca loved smooth pancakes, but at the risk of exposing myself even further, I let it go. “Sure, why not?” I said with a shrug and stepped away from the kitchen counter.

She laughed uproariously. “You wanted to make her breakfast this morning and used me as a cover, didn’t you? Wow, I can’t believe I had to be shipped all the way from a different island to help your romantic agenda.”

I wished it were as she described it. That Bogdan and his men didn’t exist. That I had simply brought her here for a fun breakfast. The idea was so filled with innocence and so alluring, I wanted to hold on to it.

“I should be offended,” she went on, wagging her finger at me. “That you never revealed yourself as an Ivankov, but fortunately for you, I like playing Cupid and I love Bianca, so I want something amazing for her. And you might be that amazing person. Get the butter out for me, can ya?”

Meekly, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a tub of butter.

“The thing about Bianca is she has no confidence in herself. It’s like it’s been set in stone inside her that the best is not destined for her. She doesn’t deserve it. Sometimes, I even think she doesn’t know how to reach out and grab for what she wants. And the one time she did it with you, you disappeared, and that really set her back. But the truth is you’re still sweet on her, aren’t you?”

I frowned as I put the pan on the stove. “We’re friends, Aldie.”

She laughed. “Friends don’t do what you did for her. You risked everything to steal Bianca away from Bogdan. You may be able to gloss over the fact that what you did was the nuclear option with Bianca, but not with me. My grandmother is Russian, remember? And Bridgeport is a small place. I’ve heard whispers and horror stories about Bogdan from the time I was ten years old. Selling his Fentanyl to our kids, taking Russian women for his brothels, and we knew to stay clear from him and his businesses. But now the whole community is in an uproar and there’s all kinds of gossip flying around about him.”