38. Mel

The hour-long drive is excruciating, with the tension roiling off of Gleb. Though his face is calm, his eyes on the road, and Gabby has fallen asleep in her car seat, I still feel the heightened emotions crackling in the air.

Yes, he came to save me again.

And yes, I think he's done with me for good once we're back in New York.

I ruined any chance of establishing a relationship like we had after the first time he saved me—definitely the one we just barely began before I fled to Boston.

Watching the trees slip by out my passenger window, I pretend like the yawning chasm between us doesn't bother me. And when we finally enter the City, I feel the breath of relief creeping into my lungs.

Pyotr and Silvia's Brooklyn brownstone home is as big and beautiful as I remember it being.

Two men stand out front, dressed in black suits and looking very formidable. But I don't recognize either of them. The thought triggers my memory of Gleb mentioning that they lost so many in their fight against Mikhail, and my heart skips a beat.

It would seem Val and Efrem might both be included in that number.

My heart sinks when I think of Dani, the girl who took such stunning photos for me. She and Efrem had such a sweet relationship, from what I recall. I wonder how she's doing. If she's as lost and confused as I am.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I push the thought from my mind and unbuckle my seat belt. I glance shyly toward Gleb, and his green eyes are on me. My pulse flutters nervously, though I can't quite say why.

"You ready?" he asks.

I nod.

He gets out of the car, and I follow suit, heading to the back door to collect Gabby. In the background, I hear Gleb greet the two men standing in front of the Veles house. Whatever he says is in Russian, so I can't understand it, but the smooth richness of his voice flowing over the melodic words sends a shiver down my spine.

Gabby moans, her eyes fluttering as I lift her from her car seat. "Where we?" she asks, looking around in confusion as I set her on my hip.

"New York, keiki. This is the new city we're going to live in."

Gabby rubs her eyes sleepily, and I kiss her temple as she leans in to rest her head on my shoulder. "Is Kieri here?"

"No, baby. She stayed in Boston. But we'll call and talk to her on the phone tonight. Okay?"

Gabby nods.

"In the meantime, we"re going to a friend's house. Pyotr and Silvia."

I fall into stride with Gleb after he closes the back door for me, and we climb the front steps. Gabby peeks shyly out from beneath my hair at the two men who open the door for us without question.

As soon as we step inside the front entrance, Pyotr and Silvia are there to greet us. Silvia has a little boy on her hip that looks to be right around Gabby's age.

"Mel," she greets, stepping forward to wrap me in a warm one-armed hug. "And look who you brought with you." Silvia beams at Gabby, who gives a tentative smile I can just catch from the corner of my eye.

"Can you say hi, Gabby? This is my good friend Silvia."

"Hi," Gabby complies shyly.

"And who's this fella?" I turn my eyes to the little boy who has dark curls and keen gray eyes, just like his dad.

"This is Nicolai," Silvia says, bouncing him gently.

"Maybe you and Nicolai can become friends. What do you think, keiki?" I murmur in Gabby's ear. She nods but buries herself further beneath my hair.

My eyes land on Pyotr next, who's smiling with soft amusement.

"It's nice to have you home, Mel," he says, his deep voice carrying across the space between us, though he doesn't make a move to hug me. He never has—probably because I made it perfectly clear the first time I met him that I didn't like men touching me. Still, welcoming me home is about as close to a warm embrace as one could give with words.

"It's so nice to see you both," I say genuinely. "Where's Isla?"

"At a friend's birthday party," Silvia says, her smile spreading. "She'll be sad she missed you."

I nod. "We'll have to come back and see her, right, Gabby?"

Again, Gabby nods as she plays with my hair.

"Well, come in. Sit down. I'll have some drinks and food prepared. You must be starving," Pyotr says, gesturing to their finely decorated sitting room.

Gleb follows me in, as does Silvia with Nicolai. Pyotr joins us a moment later, taking the couch by his wife since I took the overstuffed chair, and Gleb remains standing by the fireplace. He looks like a cat settling into a crouch—ready to pounce at a moment's notice but perfectly at ease in the meantime.

"Gleb said you had quite the trip down from Boston," Pyotr says, draping his arm behind Silvia's shoulders. "How's your head?"

"I'm fine. Really. Just a few scrapes and bumps."

"And five stitches," Gleb adds flatly.

I cast a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He gives a one-shoulder shrug in response.

"Well, we're glad you felt like stopping by. What have you been up to since we saw you last?" Silvia asks.

Heat floods my cheeks at her question. I know she wouldn't mean it this way, but it brings home the point that I left without telling anybody. And after all Pyotr and Silvia did for me, that probably wasn't the nicest show of appreciation and friendship.

"Did you pursue modeling?" she adds, her enthusiasm building.

"Yeah, some," I hedge. "I had a job for a minute"—literally—"but… they couldn't keep me on for long."

I glance down toward Gabby, stroking her head to silently imply that a pregnant model was not in high demand. But I choose my words carefully because I still don't know if it's the right choice to tell Gleb exactly whose child she is. Since we're going our separate ways, perhaps it's best not to open that can of worms.

"Anyway, after that, I got a job at a… well, a burlesque lounge. They offer housing on top of income for single mothers, so it was a good setup for us."

My stomach knots as pity flashes across Silvia's face, but from Pyotr's expression, I would guess Gleb's already pretty well informed him about my situation.

Clearing my throat, I try to push down the embarrassment of what my life has become since I struck out on my own. "That's about all there is to tell, I guess. We got into a bit of a tight spot, and Gleb came to help us out of it, so here we are. But what about you guys? It seems like plenty has changed around here since I left."

"Yeah, we had some hard years trying to rebuild," Pyotr says. "We've been keeping a low profile, but we're getting back on our feet."

"And in the meantime, the family just keeps growing." Silvia glances down at Nicolai, who's busy fiddling with a toy his father handed him.

"How's Dani?" I ask, my curiosity over the talented photographer getting the better of me.

Both their faces fall, making my stomach plummet.

"I think she's okay." Silvia casts a glance in Pyotr's direction. His jaw is tight with unspoken emotion. "We don't get to see her except at formal functions anymore. She, uh, she ended up marrying Mikhail Sidorov. From what I've gathered, she mostly spends her time Upstate these days."

My jaw actually drops. And as I gape openly at Silvia, she gives me a sad smile.

"She has a little boy, too, I believe. Though I'm not quite sure how old he'd be now."

"Wow, I… honestly don't know what to say. I thought she and Efrem were so good together." I glance toward Gleb, whose expression is inscrutable as always. And as he keeps his eyes on Pyotr, I'm at a loss completely.

"Yeah, well. Mikhail did a good job of taking him out of the picture along with over half my men," Pyotr says bitterly.

"While you were imprisoned in that cottage on Mikhail's land, we tried raiding his home," Gleb says. "It was an ambush. A bloodbath."

Oh god, poor Efrem. Poor Dani.My eyes sting with tears to think of her marrying the man responsible for Efrem's death. But rather than pressing further, I just nod. The subject is clearly still a sore one for Pyotr.

At that moment, one of the housemaids comes in with a tray of drinks and sandwiches. She gives me a kind smile, her eyes lighting with recognition. I return the gesture, thanking her for the food before she slips silently from the room once more.

"Eat, please," Silvia insists, setting a drink closer to me before rising from her seat to hand one to Gleb.

"I think now that we've caught back up, we should discuss the more important matter at hand. What's your plan now that you're back in New York, Mel?" Pyotr asks, his silver gaze sharp as he searches my face. "Do you have one yet?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head; I cast my gaze toward Gleb once more as I hold a sandwich to make it easier for Gabby to sneak a bite.

"That's why we came here first, actually," Gleb says. "The situation got… more complicated than I'd originally anticipated."

"I figured as much, considering your phone call informing me my Escalade is totaled in a ditch somewhere in Connecticut," Pyotr says dryly.

"This guy Mel agreed to marry, I don't think he intends to let her go so easily. And he's crazy and violent enough to lay his hands on her if he finds her," Gleb states, his eyes finally meeting mine.

Flashes of Vinny looming over me, wrapping his fingers around my neck until I can't breathe, flicker past my mind's eye. I swallow hard, dropping my gaze to focus on Gabby and her sandwich to keep my anxiety from overwhelming me.

"He'd already started to cross that line by the time I arrived to collect her and Gabby," Gleb continues, his smooth voice low and measured. And it was his men who drove us off the road near New Haven."

"You're sure of it?" Pyotr asks.

Gleb simply nods.

The room is starkly silent as Pyotr frowns, Silvia's expression pale with concern.

Finally, Gleb speaks once more. "We were hoping you would have a solution to get Mel back on her feet without exposing them to any danger of being found."

Pyotr studies Gleb for a long moment, his frown turning into something closer to a scowl. "I don't think you should risk being on your own. At least not right now," he states, at last, turning his eyes back to me. "Your fiancé might send someone after you again."

I nod. "If I had family to turn to, I would reach out and ask for help, but…"

Pyotr shakes his head. "Mel, we are your family. Don't you know that by now?"

Unexpected tears sting my eyes at the adamance in his tone. "Thank you," I murmur, nearly choking on my emotion. "But I can't burden your family with my problems. You've already done so much for me, and you have enough troubles as it is, what with Mikhail and trying to rebuild…"

Nodding, Pyotr's expression shifts to thoughtful as his gaze turns toward Silvia. "I agree that you can't stay here."

And though I know that's basically what I just said, I can't help the ridiculous sting of rejection, the sudden sense of abandonment. We drove all this way, completely turned my life and Gabby's on its head, only to have nowhere to go.

"This house wouldn't be any safer for you or Gabby," Pyotr continues, immediately assuaging that feeling of rejection. "We're trying to keep a low profile, but Mikhail is unpredictable, and the Veles just don't have the strength of numbers we used to. I can't guarantee your safety like I once could. I keep trying to convince Silvia she might be better off taking the kids and going back to Chicago to stay with her brother for a while?—"

"And I keep telling you we're a family. We stick together," Silvia cuts in.

It's clearly been an ongoing argument. And I love that this is the kind of thing two people in love can disagree over—whether safety or being together is more important.

"I know, sokrovishche," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Silvia's forehead and silencing her with it.

When his eyes turn back to me, his expression is a nerve-racking blend of foreboding and compassionate. "After everything Gleb has told me about the Kellys and this Irishman you've been tangled up with," Pyotr says, "I think the best way to keep you safe is for you to marry."

I can't help the burst of incredulous laughter that leaves my lips, and from the corner of my eye, I see Gleb stiffen. Clearly, he wasn't imagining that would be the kind of help Pyotr would suggest either.

"From what I understand," Pyotr reasons, "the Kellys are devoutly Catholic—or at least, in their own way."

I nod, thinking back to what I know about Mr. Kelly, his affinity for helping single mothers, and the information I gathered from the girls over my years of working at Pearl's. He's not wrong.

"They would consider marriage a binding contract in the eyes of god, right?" Pyotr continues.

My mind shifts to the conversation I had with Kieri just the other night, the warning she gave me that marriage to a Kelly was for life. My stomach knots painfully, and again, I nod.

"So if this Vincent Kelly learns you belong to someone else, he's more likely to give up the hunt. Especially now that you're hundreds of miles away, and he would have to spare the men to come search for you in a city as big as New York. So, we can spread the word about your nuptials in Boston before he tries to come looking for you again."

"But, Pyotr, I can't get married just to try to avoid my last rash agreement to marry someone," I counter, even if the plan sounds more effective than anything I've come up with. "Besides, no one would agree to marry me anyhow, just to keep me out of the hands of a crazed Irish mafia member. They'd have to have a death wish."

Pyotr's eyebrow raises at my adamant objection, and without a hint of humor, he states, "Gleb will."

It feels as though he's launched a bolt of electricity through my chest, and I look at Gleb in utter disbelief that his boss would even suggest such a ludicrous idea. Gleb was the one who just said in the car that it would be best if we went our separate ways. I can't ask him to marry me now. Not when he clearly wants space.

My heart stutters at the intensity of his green-eyed gaze, the war of emotions that wage behind the calm mask of his face. Then, to my astonishment, he gives a curt nod. It's the only acknowledgment he gives, but it's his way of saying he'll marry me.

Not that he wants to.

But once again, Gleb is willing to do what it takes to keep me safe.

Even if it means sacrificing his own wants and needs.

"Good. It's decided then," Pyotr states. "We'll take you to the courthouse today. Besides, I don't think there's a safer place for you to stay than with Gleb."

Oh god, I'll be living with him?

I mean, of course, I would if I'm his wife—even if it's just to get Vinny off my back.

But just the thought of it makes my heart pound forcefully against my ribs.

Gabby must feel the frantic beat because she turns in my lap to look at me with solemn concern.