I don’t doubt that, and that’s why I have to do what I have to do.
Again I squeeze her hand, but I cup her face this time so she can stare into my eyes.
“Don’t worry, angel’skoye lichiko.”
“But my mom—”
“Don’t worry about your mother,” I tell her and she looks at me as if I just offered her all her dreams.
“No?”
“Trust me.” I know I’m asking her to do the thing I haven’t been able to do for close to a decade but I’m asking her to do it anyway. “Can you trust me?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I trust you.”
I smile at her and she returns it.
“Good, now come here to me.”
I move in to kiss her and she comes to me willingly like she’s really mine.
I’ll take a kiss if nothing else from the angel.
The knock on my door makes sure that’s all I take and we move apart.
“I’ll be back.”
“Okay.”
There’s only a few people that could be knocking on my door at the crack of dawn.
I pull my joggers on and open the door.
I knew the person was either going to be Maksim or Ilya. My first guess was right.
Maksim stares back at me and glances over my shoulder at Olivia on the bed.
His face tenses showing his displeasure at seeing her obviously naked and wrapped in my sheets when he told me to kill her.
I haven’t spoken to him properly since.
I step out of the room, close the door and he follows as I walk down the corridor until I’m at the long French windows, right out of earshot of Olivia hearing anything.
He looks over the gnash on my face and tugs on his bottom lip.
“What is it?” I say.
“Persephone’s P.A contacted the office. He was trying to speak with you last night but your phone was off. They want to set up a meeting.”
Finally Persephone is back.
“When?”
“Today. They want you to call with a time. The P.A said to bring one of the D’Agostinos.”
My eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Because fucking Madam Persephone will feel comfortable with someone of Italian descent accompanying you. She doesn’t want you bringing anybody from the Bratva either.” Unmistakable anger laces through his tone.