Chapter 46

Chapter 45

Sophia

TWO DAMN days.

It's like Luka's fallen off the face of the Earth since that weird phone call at the lake house. That night, we connected. There was something real between us. He was more than just a mob boss; he was a man. And I am falling for him…hard. But spilling my guts to him? Hell, that would be like painting a target on my back.

Shit, I was about to confess everything to him.

I'm fucking insane!

After the call, it was like someone flipped a switch in him. The warmth, the openness…all gone. He was cold, distant. We packed up and left the lake house like we were running from a damn ghost.

I chew on my lower lip. But then I paste on a bright smile.

Gotta keep up the act for Yulia.

"Miss Maria, is Ms. Ivankov ready for her lesson?" calls a man from the stables, his voice rich and deep.

I spin around, coming face to face with a pair of smoky eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A killer smile. Great, the horseback riding coach. Just what I needed.

"I'm sorry. I'm Sophia," I correct him, my tone polite but firm. "Maria no longer works here."

"Miss Sophia…" His eyebrows shoot up. "Apologies for the mix-up. I'm Mikhail."

"Just Sophia," I reply, forcing nonchalance into my voice. "Drop the ‘Miss.'"

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting. "Sophia it is." He takes a beat, his gaze a bit too intense as he studies me. "Nice to meet you, Sophia."

"Well, nice to meet you too, Mikhail," I say quickly, aiming to steer the conversation away from personal territory. "Ms. Ivankov is ready for her class now."

He glances over at Yulia, then back at me. A knowing smile curls his lips, but he simply nods. "Right, let's get to it then."

What the hell is he so smug about?

"Ms. Ivankov, did you pick a horse for today?" Mikhail's attention shifts, his voice more formal as he addresses Yulia.

"Chestnut, of course!" Yulia skips excitedly towards one of the stables.

"Absolutely; let's get you saddled up." Mikhail flashes a Hollywood-worthy smile, then winks at me.

I plaster on a polite smile in response, my mind going a hundred miles an hour.

Where the fuck are you, Luka?

My mind feels like it's stuck on replay.

But who could blame me? Luka's like catnip to my inner kitten. He's got this presence. This unmissable, unignorable presence that's like a shot of vodka – sharp and intoxicating. And despite myself, I've started to…

Started to what, Sophia?

I miss him. God, I miss him.

My eyes scan the joint, half expecting Luka to just pop up out of nowhere. Instead, I get a full view of this Ivankov playland.

I can't help but stare.

Sure. Why not?

Horse stables, lawns that stretch forever, and a mansion that could probably house half of Chicago – it's like some wild fantasy someone dreamed up.

Probably hides a dragon or two.

I snort at my own stupid joke.

"Hey, Sophia, this is Chestnut!" Yulia's voice rips me out of my head. She's got this handsome horse by the reins, and his coat's as shiny as a freshly polished boot.

"I see. Chestnut is a real stunner!" I holler back, my heart going all soft seeing her happy little face. For such a little squirt, she has more spunk than half the adults I know. And now she proves it by clambering fearlessly into the saddle as if she was born to be there.

I'm watching her head off to her lesson when I get that eerie feeling like somebody's staring holes in my back. I wheel around, and there she is. This petite woman, not much more than five feet tall, dressed in a maid's outfit that's two sizes too big. Brown hair scraped back into a bun, glasses perched on the edge of her nose.

She's gaping at me, wide-eyed and frozen.

"Oh! Hello there," I say, throwing my hands up. "Didn't mean to startle you."

My reassurance doesn't seem to help. She stumbles back, trips on thin air, and lands ass-first in a pile of hay.

"Oh, damn! You okay?" I can't help the laugh that slips out. She's like a cartoon character come to life.

"I…I…" she sputters, her cheeks flaming up.

"Let's start over. I'm Sophia." I smile.

She blinks up at me, still sitting in the hay. "I'm…I'm Anya."

"Nice to meet ya, Anya," I grin, offering her a hand up. She takes it, her fingers trembling a bit.

I straighten up, dusting off the front of my shirt. "You new here too, Anya?"

She nods, biting her lower lip. "Been here for six months," she says quietly.

"Six months? Huh." I scratch at my chin, pretending to ponder. "I've been here for, what, less than a week? Guess I just broke your record for ‘newest kid on the block.'"

Anya blinks, then giggles nervously. The sound is quiet, almost lost in the distant whinnying of horses.

"Just messing with you," I respond, my chuckle coming out a little huskier than intended. "My first day? Nearly did a death-defying tumble down the stairs. But Luka – I mean, Mr. Ivankov – he—"

A sudden rush of warmth floods through me, the memory of Luka's solid form beside me, saving me from the epic plunge. I shake my head, shoving that memory back down where it belongs.

Not now, Sophia.

"I mean, lucky for me, I didn't turn into a pancake on my first day of work," I correct quickly, my voice breezy.

She gives a hesitant giggle, and I take it as a victory.

"Guess we're the newbies, huh?" I say, grinning at her. "Let's be friends."

She gives a hesitant smile back. "Friends?"

"Sure," I say, clapping her on the shoulder. "Welcome to the club. You, me, and the rest of the outcasts."

There's a momentary shift in her eyes then, a quick flicker of something darker, more desperate before she masks it with a forced smile.

What was that?

"So…got any insider info on sidestepping the dragon lady?" I ask, quickly switching gears as I lean closer, my voice low and tinged with playful sarcasm.

She gives me a confused look. "Dragon lady?"

"Svetlana," I explain. "Head maid. You know – tall, scary, could probably kill a man with her glare."

Anya's gaze flickers at the mention of Svetlana, like she's battling an inner demon. Then she morphs back into her usual shy self.

Guessing we probably need another change of subject, I try something else. "Can I ask you something?" I throw in casually.

"Ask what?" she responds.

"Your age. You look…pretty young. Are you from one of the colleges nearby?"

After a moment's hesitation, she reveals, "Me, I'm twenty. But not from here."

"I kind of figured that from your accent," I admit.

"I am from Kosova," she discloses, her voice matter-of-fact. "My mama, she…sell me to work here."

"Sold you?" I sputter, feeling a chill creep up my spine. "You mean, like…human trafficking?"

She nods, her expression remaining calm, as if she's discussing the weather and not her life-shattering ordeal. "Yes. It's quite normal where I come from. Many girls…they are taken away."

"But why are you here, then? If you were sold, I mean," I stammer out, my brain whirling with the reality of Anya's casual confession.

"They thought I could be a…how do you say…courtesan?" She struggles with the word, her accent thickening. I don't correct her by saying "prostitute." If "courtesan" makes her feel better, that's her business. Still…what the hell? Seeing my appalled expression, she hurriedly adds, "But I was not…attractive enough for them."

I feel a flush of anger coloring my cheeks. "Not attractive enough? That's…that's sickening!"

Not as sickening as human trafficking, but I'm not going to rub her nose in that.

Anya shrugs, a touch of bitterness in her eyes. "I was lucky, in a way. Less…desirable meant less danger. The Ivankov household needed a maid. I was…spared."

"Spared?" I echo, my mind struggling to process what I'm hearing.

Anya only gives me a sad, almost apologetic smile. "I know it is hard to understand, Sophia. For you, it is horror. For many of us, it is just…life."

I press my lips together, but I feel my eyes soften. I'm not so different from Anya here, not when I'm neck-deep in my own mess. Forced into nannying and lying to spy for a monster, my brother and best friends' lives are hanging by a thread.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath, causing Anya to blink in confusion. For two whole days, I've heard jack shit from those bastards. My secret burner phone's been as quiet as a church on a Monday.

Then, out of nowhere, two men in sharp suits pass by. They're big, their eyes moving over everything, serious and ready.

"Do you notice there are more guards around here?" I ask Anya as I eye them. They're built like brick shithouses, their eyes scanning the area, alert and watchful. The air around them is charged, the silent command they carry clearly stating they mean business.

She nods. "Yes. There is something happening…" Anya's voice trails off, turning into a whisper. She moves closer and whispers in my ear, "They found spy stuff in the mansion."

My heart freezes.

"Who…? When?"

"Few days ago, I guess. Don't know much. They do not tell us maids." Anya shrugs. "I heard from Polina – some of the staff, they have…gone missing."

My blood runs cold.

Holy crap!

"Missing? What do you mean?"

She shrugs again, looking uncomfortable. "Like, they are not here anymore. Some say they got in trouble. Others think… Well, they might be…dead."

Dead?

The word echoes in my head, a cold chill snaking down my spine. Fear barrels into me like a sucker punch to the gut.

Shit!

My stomach twists and turns, ready to revolt.

I can't get caught. I can't! I won't let them end me.

Nana, Wren, Nilo… They're all depending on me.

"Excuse me. I- I need to go…" My voice is a croak, barely audible. I feel the clench in my stomach, trying to ignore the way it lurches. Without waiting for a response, I bolt towards the nearest bathroom.

I don't even manage to lock the door before I'm over the toilet, hurling out my breakfast.