Page 17 of Impenitent Claim

As I walked through the clear, crisp fall night, I could finally draw a proper breath. The mix of green apple and lavender spritz faded as rotting leaves and frosty lawn cleared my nostrils. It wasn’t until I slipped over the property wall that I pulled my phone from my pocket. There was an unanswered text from Dimi, so I dialed.

When the line clicked through, I breathed, “Yes, boss?”

“Ilya, you answered.” Surprise laced the pakhan’s greeting. “I know you said you needed time, but it’s been weeks, and I haven’t heard a word from you.”

I didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything to say. He didn’t know where I was, only that I wasn’t in Chicago.

“Can I help, brother?” he added softly.

My chest constricted. Dimitri was the best friend I had, and his family was mine. But even so, I couldn’t admit what I’d done. He could never know I was stalking the princess of an Italian mob. It could mean war, even though this criminal organization was solely based in a prominent, albeit smaller East Coast town outside the hub that was New York City. But dying would have been an easier alternative than letting her go. This huntress sought me out in my own domain and then disappeared into the night. I spent too long trying to remove her mark from my soul. The siren was mine.

“I’ll let you know, but not right now,” I finally answered.

“I need to ask: What the fuck are you doing?” Dimi’s heavy breathing filled the earpiece.

How could I tell him what I felt when I didn’t understand it myself? It was a torrid emotion, pulsing through my veins and driving me to do things no sane man would do. If it was required of me, I would happily rip out my own beating heart to give to her, while at the same time, my fingers itched to sink two bullets in her fiancé’s chest and one between his eyes just for daring to think he could claim her.

“Ilya?” Dimitri pressed, breaking the lingering silence.

“Stalking a rusalka.” I hung up, stifling his outburst of confusion.

***

Pulling up outside a store, I checked the name of the stilled frame of the video with the letters scrawled across the front of the building. This was the place. I pocketed my phone and emerged from the beater. While I waited impatiently to create another scenario where Isabella Rinaldi could perish tragically so the siren could slip away with me, I wanted to make her another present. The strategy of gifting her personalized,thoughtful items was more fun than I could have anticipated. It required research and exercised both the rational and creative sides of my mind. I didn’t want Isabella to be frightened that she was being stalked. Which meant I put a great deal of care into selecting things she would like.

So far, I was doing well.

But it was obvious a man like me didn’t belong in a place like this. I passed the purses and handbags, only giving a cursory glance at the discounted jewelry. Big red signs with white letters offered enticing prices. Numbers were easier to decipher than letters, but that didn’t make my limitation any easier.

No, this place was supposed to have home décor such as candles and throw blankets, as well as snacks and treats. Scanning the store layout, I located the necessary aisles. But they didn’t have the correct items. I frowned at my phone and glared at the shelves. I couldn’t read most of the labels. The fancy fonts blurred, and individual letters didn’t stand out.

I fisted my hand at my side.

Think! You have to figure this out.

Isabella liked fall things. Apples and pumpkins. Since the first night I visited her, she’d strung bright leaves dipped in wax to preserve their shape and color on twine across her walls. That was why the fall cozy basket was the perfect gift. After my one and only failure, when I thought the nightly offering was something she would love, I was in no hurry to repeat that disaster.

So I needed to make this “Cozy Boo Basket for Readers” exactly like the influencer suggested.

But the items weren’t the same as the video! The shape on the bag of popcorn was caramel and cheese mix. It wasn’t the caramel apple like the video, but shouldn’t it work? I flexed and clenched my jaw. Pressure built in my spine, so I rolled my neck to loosen the muscles.

I didn’t know how to be the right kind of guy for a woman like her.

Fighting and killing were second nature to me. With the right apps and tools, I could even manage a club, which on some level was structured with military-like discipline. Thankfully, Dimitri and his wife ran the logistical side of the business, which left most reports and documents on their desks, not mine. But I was good at inputting products into order sheets because that was just matching words and numbers. Which was exactly what I was failing at doing in this store.

“Do you need some help, hun?” a soft voice piped up behind me.

Lost in my own thoughts, I hadn’t heard the smiling employee come down the aisle. “You don’t have the items from the video,” I said, forcing my voice to sound less gruff.

The robust woman clicked her tongue. “We’re an off-price retailer. Most of the adventure is hunting various locations to find the goodies we have in stock, just like Home Goods.”

“So thisisTJ Maxx, but you don’t have these?” I held up the phone once more, this time the video playing through the Bookstagrammer assembling a fall care package.

“Nope! But it’s not hard to find replacements to create the same effect.” She nodded to the caramel and cheddar popcorn in my hand. “Looks like you’ve already got a start.”

Without me having to ask, she began pointing at other treats on the shelf. I plucked them all. We went around the corner and the shopkeeper grabbed pens, pads of paper, and sticky notes. They were an autumn color scheme, coming together in the best aesthetic. The candles were in the next aisle over.

“Pick something she’ll like. Fall scents are there with the main display, but our regular scents are here,” she beamed. “And if you need any more help, my name is Tana, and I would love to come assist you.”