“Oh?”
“You know what it’s like,” Vadim says softly. “When you question your own humanity. When you crave validation and power so badly, you’ll do anything to find it? Confide in anyone.”
“I understand,” Milton says, his voice a rasp.
“Irina and I were more partners than anything else. In manipulation. Deception. Seduction. We made a game of it. Stealing tokens to prove who was the better player. Looking back, I think it was the only way we could survive. She disappeared before I gained my freedom,” he adds. “Whether she was killed or escaped, I never found out. But now I suspect she left on her own. Left me behind. To her, it would be just another part of the game.”
“And your child?” Milton presses. “Is she part of the ‘game’? Have you tried to find her, Irina? You cite my ‘psychiatric’ experience, which you gladly make use of. And yet, in all of our sessions, you’ve never mentioned her.”
“I don’t know,” Vadim says in a tone that makes something inside me throb. “If she is alive…she’s deliberately concealed herself from me. When I found Magda, she had no documentation. No birth certificate. It’s like she appeared out of nowhere, but the doctor who did her first examination claimed that she had been well-fed beforehand. Well-groomed and her vaccinations appeared to be up to date. The only abnormality was that her diabetes was dangerously uncontrolled.”
“Could she have been planted?” Milton wonders. “Where you would find her.”
“If Irina is her mother…” He trails off in that way he does when he’s mulling something over. Something puzzling like the prospect of me leaving, or a woman who may or may not be the mother of his child. “Why have I never mentioned her? We all had our ways of coping,” he adds softly. “She could see those around her as creatures to protect or toys just as easily. When she left, there was no point in dwelling on her. She would want me to dwell. And now? I don’t see her abandoning Magda without a reason.”
“A fucked up one from what it sounds like,” Milton hisses. “I have to ask. Was… Was she part of the trade, your girl?”
“No,” Vadim says, and I sense them both release sighs of relief. “Her examinations revealed no sign of abuse. She’s had a relatively normal upbringing. No matter her origin, I will protect her.”
“And you won’t be alone in that.” The heat in Milton’s tone challenges Vadim’s own assurance. “Milton sees me as a scared little boy he’s sworn to protect.” But duty is a very different animal from unquestionable loyalty. “Can I see her?” he asks.
“She’s sleeping,” Vadim says. “Maybe tomorrow. But she doesn’t know who I am for now. As far as she’s concerned, I’m her new foster placement.”
“Damn.” Milton whistles. “Do you plan on telling her?”
“Maybe. When the time is right.”
“And here I thought Maxim could be a secretive prick. He hides his women from me. You hide your children. What a friendship we all share.”
“You know I trust you more than anyone,” Vadim says, sounding closer. Advancing footsteps force me to scamper up the stairs just as the two men appear in the foyer, advancing toward the front door.
“And you deserve to meet her,” Vadim adds.
“And Maxim?” Milton draws up beside him, fingering the collar of his crisp, ebony suit. “I hear he didn’t make the best impression.”
“He won’t be coming anywhere near her,” Vadim says coldly. “I tried with him. But he’s proven more than once—he isn’t worth the time. As far as Magda is concerned, he’s a violent stranger who barged into her home and scared the hell out of her.”
Milton frowns. “For what it’s worth, he didn’t mean to scare her.”
“The fact that he’s saying as much through you and not in person is all I need to know.” Vadim’s gaze darkens, closed-off. “He will never see her again.”
Milton shrugs as Vadim opens the front door. “I hope you change your mind,” he says before stepping out into the darkness. “That little girl needs all of the family she can get. You know better than anyone else that one can’t be too picky when it comes to that subject.”
He leaves, and Vadim closes the door after him, sighing. Rather than escape before he catches me eavesdropping, I take a moment to ogle him. His shoulders are rigid, his profile the picture of brooding unease. As I watch, his constricted expression softens as his lips part, his voice rasping, “My beauty,” he calls to me despite my hiding place. “So cunning. So sly. How much did you hear?”
I step around the corner and descend the stairs, my chin jutting in defiance. “Enough to know I deserve to be punished.” I force a smile, praying that I seem nonchalant enough to have missed the trigger points of his conversation. Like the mysterious Irina who shares Magda’s electric-blue eyes. Naughty questions persist on the fringes of my brain anyway. Such as, did he love her? Is he hoping she’ll return?
I could ask him.
I should…
But I can’t.
His gaze is far too guarded, and I don’t have the heart to shatter my ruse. I saunter to him instead and grab his tie, stroking the fabric suggestively.
“Should I be spanked for my insolence?” I wonder, making my voice low enough so that it won’t carry upstairs. “Or do I deserve a harsher chastisement?”
Vadim cinches my waist in both hands, yanking me closer. I finger his collar while his mouth finds my ear, nibbling at the lobe. “You deserve the world,” he growls in a tone that makes my head spin. So insistent. So confident in that regard.
A world of his making. A sinful, kinky paradise in which I’m at his mercy—helpless as he pulls me down the hall and into his study, taking care not to make too
