Page 86 of Devious Truth

“Doubtful. Marie made just enough money to cover her bar tab and rent.” Slamming my locker shut, I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yep, I’m on.”

Ivan stands on the other side of the door when Caroline yanks it open, his eyes darting straight me. His whole body seems to relax.

“Have a good night,” Caroline wiggles her fingers and heads back into the club.

“I don’t want to get in the way of your work if you have things to do.” I stop in the doorway, folding my arms over my chest.

His eyes narrow a fraction. “The car’s waiting.”

We walk in silence through the underground hallways leading us to the side entrance he and his brothers use. Yosef waits for us, getting out of the car to open the doors as soon as he notices our arrival.

After twenty minutes of silence, I realize Yosef isn’t headed to my apartment. “You’re taking me to your place again?”

Ivan envelopes my hand with his.

“Yes.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

He tightens his hand when I try wiggle mine away.

“No.”

The car falls into silence again. It’s almost painful, the thickness of it.

His thumb casually pets my palm, each slow stroke grounding me, steadying the storm brewing inside me. The air between us doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

When we arrive at his building, he lets go of my hand in order to get out of the car. The disappearance of his touch lets the intrusive thoughts I’ve been fighting all day creep back in.

Whatever is happening between us can’t keep going. It has to stop.

Aside from the obvious fact dating my boss is a horrible decision, there’s the fact that he’s deep in the Russian mafia. His brother’s already been shot, and he or I could be next.

I need to get out of this before my heart gets broken, or worse.

When the elevator opens and I don’t get out, Ivan turns, giving me a quizzical look.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Getting out of the elevator?”

“Staying here tonight.”

“You’d rather stay in the elevator?” He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“You know what I mean.”

The doors start to close, but Ivan stops them with his arm. He leans against the doors.

“My family is coming over in the morning for Sunday brunch. We try to do it a few times a month, but things have been chaotic for the last few months. I want you here when they come over.”

“Ivan—”

“Vee, it’s brunch.” He holds out his hand.

“No more talk about getting married?” I reach out for his hand but stop just short of touching.

---