Page 30 of Sinful Union

“Am I interrupting?”

“What are you doing here?”

He laughs. “I live here, remember? Part of the arrangement.”

“Fair enough. But don’t you have family business to attend to?”

The truth of the matter is, I want to spend time with my daughter—alone. The look on Piotr’s face, knowing and supercilious, suggests he stopped by for another reason besides saying hi to his sister.

“This right here is the only family business I care about at the moment.” He places a kiss on Ana’s forehead, then sets her down before settling into the chair across from me. “I told the guards to let me know when you come over.”

My spine stiffens. That’s new.

“And why is that? Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“No,” he says firmly, crossing his arms. “But if you’re going to be pulling a stunt where you slip away, then discreetly drop by for visits—something I don’t recommend, by the way—I want to know when it happens.”

I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t get the chance.

Ana picks up on the atmospheric shift in the room, her little face scrunching as she looks between us. “Are you mad at each other?”

I force a soft smile, reaching for her hand. “No, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.”

She doesn’t look convinced. She’s too perceptive for that.

Before she can ask anything else, however, Camille appears in the doorway. “Ana, time to get ready for ballet.”

Ana gasps, suddenly remembering. She scrambles out of her chair, excitement replacing her earlier concern. “Mama, my recital is in three weeks! You’re going to be there, right?”

Another lump rises in my throat. I’ve lost count at how many I’ve experienced since being here. Three weeks. Her father will be dead by then, and I’ll be back with her, where I belong.

I nod, forcing a smile onto my lips. “Of course, my love.”

She beams, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before dashing off with Camille to get dressed for ballet class. She stops and looks back. “Love you, Mama!”

I watch her go, a twisting ache forming deep in my chest. God, I hate leaving her. I need to end this. But not in the way Piotr wants me to.

“Is she going alone?” I ask once she’s out of earshot. “I mean, with anyone besides Camille?”

Piotr cocks his head to the side. “Are you asking if Ana is protected? If she needs guards?”

I glance at him, wary. “Of course I am, and of course she does. She’s my daughter.”

Piotr leans back in his chair, watching me. “She’s safe at all times.”

That should reassure me, but it doesn’t. I don’t trust him anymore. I say nothing. Instead, I nod, then stand up, reaching for my purse on the counter.

“Going so soon?” he asks.

“Yes. I need to get back before Pavel does. I don’t want him asking questions.”

“I understand. But you and I need to chat before you leave.”

I stop cold, my fingers tightening around my purse.

“A chat? About what?”

“Just come to my office; we can talk in there.”

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