Page 37 of Heritage of Fire

“I figured Luna—I mean, Mrs. Balakin—could use a cup after being woken by us last night. Figured she might not have slept the best after that.” He offers her a sweet smile and I immediately change my mind. Lev can drive me today.

“Lev found me out here reading this morning,” Luna says as she stands, book and coffee in hand.

“What did you get?”

Where the hell did that come from?Whydo I want to know what kind of coffee she gets?

“A vanilla latte. I could only drink half of it, though.” She steps an inch closer to me, and it’s a small step away from Lev—I’m oddly satisfied by that.

“Half, you say?” I reach for the cup, my fingers grazing hers. Her grip tightens on the cup for a moment before releasing it to me. I watch her as I bring the drink to my mouth, covering the spot where she had her lips with mine. Her eyes widen before they dart to the grass.

“It’s probably cold. I could go make some fresh coffee if you’d like?” She shuffles on her feet, her book absently tapping her thigh.

“Nah, I’m all set now.”

I offer her a wide grin and turn on my heel to get ready for the commute into the city. Once I’m back through the door, I down the beverage, Luna’s mouth flashing through my mind.

I don’t even like coffee.

“We need to go meet our suppliers,” Luka says, to Igor and me. I grimace. Since when do our suppliers summon us?

“What for?”

“We need to have the Cosa Nostra armed with quality weapons. Salvatore has placed a large order, and I want to personally ensure our suppliers get it right.”

That doesn’t make sense to me. When I approached Luka last year about this new supplier, we were the only ones in the US doing business with them.

“Why doesn’t Salvatore find his own suppliers?”

Luka’s gaze narrows on me. “He isn’t going straight to our suppliers.Weare supplying the weapons and Buscetta is trusting us to come through for him. He’s paying, as would anyone else purchasing from us. But this alliancemeanssomething, Nikolai. You know this more than anyone. I want to ensure this order gets prioritized.”

I nod, feeling like shit. I want this alliance to work. Sometimes it’s hard to keep that in perspective with a certain beautiful brunette in my bed every night.

“We leave tonight. Go home, grab a bag and meet me at the airfield. I want to be wheels up at 10 p.m.”

I stand, beating Igor to the door. When I reach my car, I peel out of the city and head back to my sanctuary. Halfway there, it hits me. This trip will leave Luna alone by herself.

The sun crests above the warehouse as I pull into the driveway, the last of its light peering through the surrounding pines. I take the stairs two at a time, grateful there isn’t any smoke wafting down to greet me. As I open the door, a delicious smell reaches my nose, and I breathe in deep before stopping in my tracks.

Luna stands at the kitchen sink, washing a head of lettuce. Her left leg is raised, the bed of her foot pressed to the opposite leg’s thigh—it reminds me of a yoga pose. I skim up her leggings and large sweater to her hair, which is pulled back in a long ponytail. There are earbuds pressed in her ears, and she’s mumbling the lyrics to whatever she’s listening to.

Light filters through the living room windows, creating the perfect glow around her.

I don’t want to move.

Unfortunately, I have a flight to catch. I shake off my stupidity, moving into the apartment and letting the door slam behind me.

She jumps and water splashes over her sweater. Her face relaxes when she sees me, a hand removing an earbud. She offers me a half smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were there.” She shifts on her feet, reaching for a towel. “I compromised and ordered some chicken. I’m tossing a salad, too, if you’re hungry.” As if unable to meet my eyes, hers dart to the TV, back to the kitchen counter, to the side window, thenfinallyto me—and I track every movement.

“I’m passing through. Luka wants us on a plane to Moscow tonight. I need to grab a few things.”

“Oh, okay.” Wiping her palms on her thighs, she gnaws the inside of her lip.

I march to the bedroom and pull the small divider closed. After tossing several shirts and pants into my duffel, I freshen up and pull a suit jacket out of the closet to match the pants I’m wearing.

With the last of my things packed up, I return to the kitchen. Luna is leaning against the counter, eating a piece of lettuce. Worry lines pepper her face, her eyebrows nearly meeting as she frowns. Unease settles deep in my chest. This is uncharted territory for me.

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