Page 59 of Impenitent Claim

He disappeared.

I might not have the option. Already my name was being thrown around in the other room. Someone would venture upstairs to collect me soon enough.

“Did you see his champion fighter? They came straight from the training arena,” Rosa whispered as she slipped from the front parlor.

I slipped under the stairs, letting the shadows swallow me as the women passed.

Caterina fanned herself. “I don’t know where the underboss found him, but I want a bite.”

Rosa slapped her playfully. “You’re so bad!”

The other woman snickered. “Tullio will be sending prostitutes to sate his urges. I heard him place the order with my brother. Do you think I could pull off being a hooker?”

“For a night with him? I would try,” Rosa said eagerly.

They disappeared into the hall bathroom, probably to do a line of coke. A mixture of feelings swirled in my chest. I huddled deeper into the alcove, and my lip found its way between my teeth.

I shouldn’t care.

But there was no arguing with the sour feeling in my stomach. I couldn’t have Ilya, but why did the thought of someone else having him make me feel sick?

A laugh blew through my nose. Not even the shock of finding severed fingers, frozen and served in a Tiffany box could make me feel like this.

“Something is wrong with me,” I mouthed.

Awareness prickled across my skin, and my eyes snapped to find his grey ones as he emerged from the passage that led to the kitchens. He had a freaking mug in his hands.

Without a word, he took the coffee shop’s paper cup, dumped the contents into the mug, and handed the drink back to me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “Thank you,Elijah.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed.

“I’ve been wondering,” I mused. “Why don’t you want them to know your Russian name?”

His gaze, glacial and overwhelming, clashed against mine. “I have my reasons.”

“Oh, and those are?” I quipped.

Something flickered through the monster’s features, but his mouth tightened in a clear indication that he wouldn’t tell me.

“Does it have to do with the reason why you’re here?” I pressed. “You’ve had your fun, haunting me, infiltrating my life, but how long can you hope for it to last? Hmm?”

Silence. Thick and smoldering, it pulsed between us.

“Ilya,” I pleaded. “You’re in over your head. What can you possibly hope to accomplish by coming here?”

At this point, I was venting my frustration. I knew he wouldn’t answer. But when he noiselessly walked to the front door, I let out a huff of annoyance.

Infuriating man! I couldn’t believe I thought fondly of his grotesque gift!

I was about to tell him just that, when footsteps warned me not to open my mouth. Just as the Russian cage fighter took up a guard position at the door, legs apart and arms clasped in front, Cecilia burst from the parlor. She stopped short when she saw me.

“I went to the kitchen for a hot beverage,” I explained, forcing my voice to sound feeble.

She pursed her lips. “There’d better not be any sugar in that. You’re on a strict wedding diet.”

I took a long gulp. “No sugar.”

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