Page 27 of Born into Chaos

I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night, and I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. The woman I love is right above me, but she’s never felt so far away. I need to watch over her, but I can’t leave a baby alone in my apartment all day. Seeing Sveta is my one happiness in life. Sometimes it’s unbearably painful, it always feels like a self-imposed form of torture, and some days I’m not sure how I’ll survive it, but I crave it all the same. She’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep.

She’s also the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to keep her curious ass out of this.

Chapter 4

Svetlana

Istare at the text Vitya left me, reading it again and again and getting a little more pissed each time I do.

Vitya:

I’m not feeling well, Sveta. I need you to stay inside today.

Vitya has been watching me every single day for over two years, and he’s never once asked for a day off for any reason. He never gets sick, and he always shows up on time. Something is wrong, and I don’t like it.

Me:

A hangover doesn’t count. Get your ass uphere, Vitya.

Vitya:

I’m not hungover, and you’re one to talk. How’s your head doing today? I’m sick, and I don’t want you to catch it. Sveta, please just keep your ass inside for one goddamn day. I swear you can punish me with a long mall trip tomorrow.

I roll my eyes at his dramatics and type my response.

Me:

You’re never sick, and you went out last night. You expect me to believe that’s not connected? Getting drunk and fucking all night doesn’t mean you’re sick. At least be honest with me. And my head is fine, by the way.

Vitya:

Neither one of those things happened last night. Just stay inside. If I’m feeling better, then I’ll be there in the morning.

I shove my phone in my pocket, too angry to text back right now. It doesn’t stop me from going over everything he said in my mind, though. There’s no way that this is all a coincidence. Vitya and I have a routine, we’ve had one for two goddamn years, and he’s deviating from it. There has to be a reason, and there’s no way in hell it’s because he’s suddenly come down with the flu.

While I think about it, I swallow a couple more aspirin. My head is killing me, but I’m not about to admit that to him.

I’m alone in the apartment. My brother is no longer here to distract me with ‘80s movies and Chinese food, and the thought of having another drink makes me feel like I’m going to lose the piece of toast I’d forced down earlier. I pace the floor and manage to keep my ass where it’s supposed to be for a solid twenty minutes, and I’m pretty damn proud of myself for that. Knowing he’s going to be furious but not caring enough to alter my plan, I grab a can of chicken noodle soup and head for the elevator. My heart races as I descend to thefloor below. Forcing the elevator to stop, I take a deep breath and step off, grateful that it’s empty. I hustle my ass to his room and knock on the door.

Too nervous to stand still, I fidget in the hall. When he doesn’t answer, I raise my hand to knock again, but he whips it open before I get a chance to. I take one look at his exhausted face and suddenly feel like a giant ass, because he looks like he’s come down with something. He’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, but there’s no denying he’s a little rumpled and not quite as shiny perfect as he usually is.

The furious look he’s giving me has me taking a step back. I hold out the can of soup to him in a sad attempt at making it seem like I actually had a legitimate reason to sneak out and disobey his orders.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His words are a whispered hiss, and I’ve never seen him so angry.

“I thought you might need some soup,” I tell him, but the look he gives me makes it clear he isn’t buying my bullshit.

“I can’t believe you left the apartment on your own.”

“Just to come check on you,” I quickly say. “No one was in the hallway. I was perfectly safe.”

He scrubs a hand over the jaw that clearly hasn’t been shaved today and lets out a heavy sigh. I’m all set to keep feeling guilty when I see the quick look he gives behind him. My entire body goes cold, because he’s hiding something or, more accurately,someone.

“Do you have someone here?” It’s my turn to sound pissed, and when he refuses to meet my eyes, I lose it. “You asshole! You skipped work because you brought some woman home last night?”

My heart fucking breaks at the thought, but I bite back the tears, focusing on the rage instead. When I meet his eyes, I know he can see the pain and anger in mine.

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