Had the man planned this? Did he know what would happen? Pav couldn’t think on it for long. He had other things to consider now.
Vadim.
Viktoria.
He had a choice to make.
It was an easy one.
Pointing a finger at Vadim, Pav uttered, “Another day, Vadim.”
The man smiled back—unafraid and cold to his core.
Evil, really.
“Just because they’ve removed the collar and chain doesn’t change what you are, Zhatka. You are, and will always be, a Boykov dog. Don’t forget it.”
11.
THE WATER of the creek bubbled over the shiny rocks that barely broke the surface. Viktoria couldn’t remember how she’d found this creek that ran through the back of her father’s estate the last time she’d been here, but it was a calm place. One had to go off the cut trails and hike a few minutes into the forest to find it and, as far as she knew, the men who watched the house didn’t deviate from the pathways.
She never saw them do it, anyway.
Setting the blanket behind her in case it got a little chilly and she wanted to cover up, Viktoria rested along the edge of the creek. Leaning forward, she let her fingers drag through the surface of the water. A chill raced up her spine from the cold water, but she enjoyed that, too.
It was refreshing.
A reminder she was still alive.
Resting her arm over her bare knees where the skirt of her dress had ridden up, Viktoria set her chin on her hand and watched the water. It was memorizing. Almost, in a way, hypnotic. She could pretend like she hadn’t tossed and turned all night in a room she didn’t want to sleep in, while wishing she was somewhere else entirely. And when she wasn’t tossing and turning, she was fighting the need to sleep in order to avoid an inevitable nightmare.
She didn’t want to be here. Not near her father. Not in Russia.
Not here.
She also couldn’t go home.
It was the snap of a twig from somewhere behind Viktoria that had her flying up to her feet and spinning around fast enough that the forest was a blur. Not that it mattered—he was already standing less than a foot away from where she had been sitting, by the time she knew he was even there.
Pav looked her over and arched a brow when she glared. “What?”
“Do you just … enjoy scaring the hell out of me?” she asked.
“I purposely stepped on a stick to let you know I was here. I’ve been standing here for five minutes, watching you.”
Viktoria blinked. “Have you?”
“What?”
“Been watching me that long?”
Pav shrugged. “You seemed distracted. I didn’t want to interrupt. I also thought it might bother you that you didn’t know I was here, so I stepped on the twig.”
Oh.
Why was this man so fucking complex?
“You were sitting before I came up,” he said, gesturing at the spot on the ground. “So sit, and I will try not to interrupt you again.”
Viktoria let out a little laugh as she retook her previous position on the ground after he had unfolded her blanket and set it out for them both to rest on. It was better than the hard, cold ground, she supposed. “I think just you being here is enough of a distraction.”
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”
She passed him a look as he came to sit by her, but Pav was looking over the water. He’d posed the question as though he didn’t take issue with the fact that he felt like she was avoiding him, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Not you,” she muttered, picking at the grass.
“Then, who?”
“Vadim.”
Pav let out a quiet grunt. “Hmm.”
“What was that sound for?”
“I would avoid him, too.”
Viktoria nodded. “Probably for different reasons, though.”
“Probably.”
“Knowing he made the choice to keep Boris alive and had everyone tell me he was dead … I don’t know what to think about that,” she said, sighing heavily. “Konstantin said it was the sins of the father, and the guilt of a man, no?”
“He did say that.”
“Vadim is not that complex.”
Pav glanced over at her, then, but those dark eyes of his held an intensity she didn’t think she had ever seen from him before. Like he was keeping secrets there and wasn’t willing to share, but they glistened in his eyes at the same time.
“That man is more complex than you know,” he murmured.
Viktoria swallowed hard. “Is he?”
“Not in a good way, babe.”
The endearment left his lips so easily that it kind of shocked her. She was accustomed to the men in her life using Russian endearments for their wives or lovers. She’d been called one a time or two, as well.
But babe …
Never.
And yet, she liked the sound of it coming out of Pav’s mouth. Maybe too much.
“You’re not sleeping well,” he said.
“How do you know that?”
“Besides the fact that your eyes are dimmed and you look tired, someone has noticed your strange habits. They let me know.”
She didn’t ask who.
She didn’t care.
“I have too much on my mind,” she admitted.
“Because of what’s happening back home?”
“What else?”
“I think your brother’s intention in sending you here was so that you wouldn’t have to think about what was happening in Chicago. You’re far away—here, no one can touch you. Not that anyone would get close enough with me here, anyway.”
She couldn’t help it when a smile curved her lips. “Oh?”
“On my life.”
“And just what is that worth, Pav?”
“Pardon?”
“Your life,” she clarified. “What is it worth?”
He
