16. LEIGH

Chapter 16

LEIGH

I wake to a soft knock at the door, a sound that feels far too gentle for the reality I’m trapped in. For a moment, I’m disoriented, my mind still foggy from sleep, and it takes me a few seconds to process where I am.

My fingers brush against the silk sheets, the fabric cool and smooth against my skin, and I roll over, half-expecting to find Radomir. But the space beside me is empty.

My heart stutters for a brief second as the memory of the pool encounter floods my mind. I pull the sheet over my body as if it can shield me from the uncertainty gnawing at the pit of my stomach. The knock comes again. I blink a few times, trying to clear the lingering fog, and call out.

“Come in,” my voice sounds rough, still raw from sleep.

The door opens, and to my surprise, it’s not one of Radomir’s men, but Tracy, her blonde hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, wearing a soft, gray dress that looks practical yet elegant. She smiles at me, a little nervous, but there’s warmth in her eyes as she steps inside.

“Radomir asked me to trade places with one of the housekeepers,” she says, her voice soft with an underlying kindness in it. “He thought you seemed to like me, and I was happy to help.”

I nod, sitting up slightly and pulling the sheet tighter around me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Tracy continues. “Would you like me to run you a bath, or would you prefer to shower after your meal?”

I hesitate, my eyes drifting toward the pristine bathroom. Other than slipping into it to call Sabrina, I haven’t explored it yet, and a flicker of unease settles in my chest. “No, I’ll shower now,” I decide, but then pause. “Actually…” I pause as a thought crosses my mind. I haven’t even checked out the shower. The last thing I need is another confusing encounter with a bathroom smarter than me.

Tracy notices my expression, and a knowing smile tugs at her lips. “I’ll put the shower on for you,” she offers, her tone light. “And if you’d like, I can choose something for you to wear for dinner.”

For a split second, I feel like royalty, a princess in a palace, with someone waiting on me hand and foot. But it’s not a feeling that sits well with me. I’m not used to this kind of attention, not used to being treated with such care. It feels wrong.

“No, Tracy,” I say quickly. “You don’t have to fuss over me. I can choose my own clothes.”

She laughs softly, reassuring me. “I don’t mind. Besides, you’re one of the nicer of Radomir’s girlfriends.” Her smile falters. “Shit, sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”

A sharp flicker of jealousy twists in my chest. Unexpected. Unwanted. It’s only a brief flare, but it catches me off guard. Radomir’s past or present romances are nothing to me—I don’t care. But I can’t shake this feeling inside or the thoughts that start to nag at the back of my mind. I do my best to push them aside and ignore them.

“No need to apologize,” I say gently, shaking my head. “Actually, Tracy, if you can pick something for me, I’d appreciate it.” I force a warm smile and keep my tone light.

I wouldn’t know where to start in a dressing room I could probably fit my bedroom into. Just finding the bikini this afternoon was like wading through a jungle of clothing.

Tracy’s smile returns, and she turns toward my dressing room. “I’ll pick something lovely for you,” she chirps.

“Has Radomir gone to Vegas?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.

Tracy stops at the dressing room door, her eyes flicker toward me, and she nods, “He’s been gone for about three hours.”

“Three hours?” I splutter in surprise. “I’ve been asleep for that long?” My eyes glance at the large clock hanging over the door. “Fuck! I slept the afternoon away.”

“You did have an early start this morning,” Tracy points out. “And you’ve had quite the emotional upheaval with moving to a new home.”

I purse my lips and nod, not liking the way she said new home , which makes this fortress of solitude sound like a cozy cottage with a warm fire in the hearth, a white picket fence, and bluebirds chirping in the trees. This is not my home; it’s my prison.

Tracy disappears into the bathroom and is back a few minutes later.

“The shower is on,” she informs me. “There is a call button beside it if you need me.”

Oh, great. Now I feel like I’m in a retirement home with emergency call buttons in the shower. Maybe there’s one of those stools in there, too . I can use it to help me hang myself with this huge sheet from the space-aged showerhead. Sighing, I slipoff the bed, and with the sheet dragging behind me, I make my way into the steamy bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an impossibly expensive-looking dress. The soft material is cool against my skin and fits me like it was made just for me. The sandals on my feet are impossibly comfortable, and while I look like a million dollars, I feel like a fraud.

Admittedly, I had dreamed of one day having a big house with gorgeous furniture, a vanity of overpriced skincare, and clothes sporting designer tags. But it would’ve been through my own success and hard work—not like it’s some reward for being some rich crime lord’s possession.

I let out a shaky breath, smoothing the fabric down over my waist, and walk toward the door. The moment I step into the hallway, Dolph’s broad frame blocks my path, his expression unreadable.

“Off to dinner?” he asks, his tone clipped.

“No, I thought I’d saddle a horse and ride into town for a night of clubbing,” I mutter sarcastically, brushing past him. The sight of even more guards than usual stops me in my tracks for a few seconds and stokes the embers of my irritation because I know that Radomir’s over-the-top security measures are a warning to me.

As I descend the staircase, the events at the pool earlier flash through my mind: Radomir interrogating me about Matriarch Records, his intensity cold and biting. He doesn’t trust me—that much is clear. And now I can’t help but wonder if he has a reason. Has Matriarch Records tried to contact me? Is that why there are so many damn guards?

The dining room is breathtaking, as always, the kind of luxury that should make anyone feel special. Instead, it amplifies my isolation. This must be what the beast in Beauty and the Beast felt like. The massive table stretches endlessly before me, the plates gleaming under the chandelier’s glow. I sit at one end, feeling like a child at a giant’s table.

The room, so inviting in the day, now feels cold and imposing.

The silence presses in, and the house, once beautiful, seems eerie and hollow, like an old mansion in a horror movie. A shiver snakes down my spine, though I know I’m not really alone. There’s an entire platoon watching over me.

I force myself to eat, but each bite feels mechanical. My thoughts won’t stop racing, bouncing between the upgraded security, Radomir’s accusations, and the gnawing ache of being utterly alone. I’ve been on my own before and have relished every moment, but I never felt alone like I do now.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, as my thoughts snap to what the fuck Radomir is doing in Vegas and who he’s doing it with, I grab my plate and wine glass and head toward the kitchen. Laughter and voices filter through the door, and I pause, surprised.

The warmth of the sound contrasts so sharply with the oppressive silence I’ve just escaped. Taking a breath, I push the door open, and all eyes turn toward me: Tracy, Dolph, and an older woman in a chef’s outfit.

“Are you okay, Miss Dalton?” Tracy asks, her concern evident.

“Please, call me Leigh.” My voice is tight, but I force a smile. “I just didn’t want to sit out there alone.”

The older woman stands, her face soft with an inviting smile. “Come in, my dear,” she says in accented English. “Join us.”

Before I can object, she takes my plate and glass, ushering me toward the table with a maternal authority that leaves no room for argument.

“I’m Katerina,” she introduces herself as she sets my things down.

“It’s nice to meet you, Katerina.” I glance at Tracy and Dolph, who seem unsure of what to do. “Are you going to just stand there, or join me?”

Katerina barks something in Russian, and they both sit immediately, their sheepish expressions making me stifle a laugh. She mutters a few more sharp words at them.

“Mama!” Dolph utters, shaking his head and saying something back in Russian.

“Mama?” My eyes widen curiously. I look from Dolph to Katerina.

“Katerina is our mother,” Tracy explains.

“Your mother?” I look between them in surprise. “You’re brother and sister?”

“Yes,” Dolph says simply, his usually guarded demeanor softening slightly.

Katerina sits across from me, her presence calming in a way I can’t explain. Her warmth feels foreign yet soothing, like an echo of a memory I’ve long forgotten.

“I have four children,” Katerina explains. “Judina, my eldest, works at the Diamond Hotel with Mr. Molchanov. Dolph also works with him.” Her eyes darken with emotion. “My third daughter, Anastasia, she lives far away.” She looks at Tracy, smiling lovingly. “And Ekaterina is my youngest.”

“Ekaterina?” I look at Tracy in surprise. “That’s a beautiful name. Why would you use Tracy?"

“It’s more American.” Tracy shrugs. “My oldest sister uses Judy, and Anastasia doesn’t use her full name either. It was just easier at school.”

I nod in understanding. “You’re lucky to have such a big family.” I smile from Tracy to Katerina. “I always wanted siblings.”

“My family is your family now,” Katerina says softly.

“If you ever need company, my kitchen is always open.”

Her kindness squeezes at my heartstrings and a tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it, and I quickly swipe it away. “Thank you,” I manage, my voice trembling.

The rest of the meal passes in a haze of stories and laughter. Tracy and Katerina fill the room with their easy camaraderie, and even Dolph joins in, though he keeps his usual stoicism. This is how I’ve always dreamed of family meal times. Basking in the love and camaraderie of your loved ones as you fill each other in about your day.

I was lucky if my father came home at all and usually ate Chinese take-out or pizza in front of a fuzzy TV or around the wobbly kitchen table as I did my homework. As we finish eating, Katerina stands, brushing her hands on her apron.

“You’ve had a long day, Leigh. I’ll make you something to help you sleep. Salted caramel hot chocolate—it’s an old recipe from my grandmother.”

I nod, unable to find the words to express my gratitude. For tonight, at least, the weight of this house doesn’t feel so heavy.

I smile back at her, feeling a warmth in my chest I haven’t felt in a while. “Thank you,” I say. Although I’m not sure a hot, sugary drink will help me sleep, especially after I slept the afternoon away.

“I’ll go prepare your bed,” Tracy says, leaving the kitchen.

I move from the table to the kitchen counter, watching Katerina move around the room, making the beverage. As I reflect on how this is one of the best evenings I’ve ever spent. I’m snapped from my thoughts when Katerina hands me the mug of hot chocolate.

The rich, sweet aroma hits me first—chocolaty and comforting. I take a sip, and the warmth spreads through me, settling in my chest. For a moment, the tension in my body fades, and the soft sweetness soothes me.

After thanking her and receiving a hug, I retreat to my room, the silence of the house swallowing me once again. The walls feel too thick, the air too heavy.

Walking into the room, I find that Tracy has remade the bed with clean sheets and has turned the bedding down, ready for me to climb in. I put the hot chocolate on the bedside table when I notice the cotton pajamas Tracy has laid out on the bottom of the bed.

I change into them and go to brush my teeth. While I’m in my bathroom, I check my phone. My heart drops when I don’t find any new messages or calls. I type a text for Sabrina:

I’m here alone for the night. Radomir’s not back until sometime tomorrow. If you’re around, call me. I can talk freely.

I stare at the message hoping Sabrina reads it soon. I’m about to put the phone away when I see that my message has been read, and within a minute, she replies:

We need to talk. Call me!

I swallow hard, my thumb hovering over the call button. I hesitate for only a moment before hitting dial. Three rings, and Sabrina answers.

Her voice is filled with excitement. “Leigh! I have news.” She doesn’t even give me a chance to say hello. “A woman came to my show tonight. She was looking for you. You’ll never guess who she is!”

“Hello to you too, Rina.” I laugh before my brow furrows worriedly, and my spine stiffens at her words. I don’t like people looking for me. They’re usually after my father for something he did or, more likely, stole. “Who is she?”

She’s a top exec at Matriarch Records,“ Sabrina says breathlessly. “The label has seen your songs, and they love them.

My heart skips a beat, my pulse quickening as the enormity of her words sinks in. This can’t be real. Shit like this doesn’t happen to me! The shock reverberates through me until my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror. The elation fizzles out as reality slams back into place. Of course, this would happen now when I’m nothing more than a rabbit trapped in a den of foxes.

Then another realization strikes, sharp and bitter. Radomir knew a record exec was looking for me . He must have known. That’s why he interrogated me by the pool.