Page 55 of Toxic Temptation
I didn’t think it was possible to hate a person I’ve never met. But Yana Makhova has just proved me wrong. I don’t even have an image of her face to focus my rage towards and still, I want to spit in it.
“No, Luka,” I say as gently as I can. “She didn’t.”
He looks down at his feet, swinging them back and forth. “She pinches me when I cry about missing Papa.”
It takes all my effort to speak calmly. “That’s not okay, Luka,” I say instead of unleashing every curse I know on this witch who by some godforsaken miracle birthed an angel. “Mamas aren’t supposed to hurt their children. Not ever.”
He shrugs. “Uncle Kovan doesn’t hurt me. He makes sure I eat. He helps me with my homework. And he built me my own galaxy.”
“Your… galaxy?”
His face lights up. “Want to see it? Please? The social worker isn’t here yet.”
I glance toward the windows overlooking the driveway. We probably have a few minutes. “Okay. Show me.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stairs, his excitement infectious. “You’re going to love it. I promise. It’s the best thing ever.”
We go jogging through the house. This place is stunning in a way that catches me by surprise. I expected luxury—Kovan’s world demands it, of course. But what I didn’t expect was warmth.
There’s warmth here, though. There’s so much warmth. Color splashes across every room. Luka’s drawings hang in actual frames on the walls. A naturescape mural flows up the staircase, painted with such care that I have to stop and stare. Forest melting into ocean pouring into river flowing into jungle.
“Did you help with this?” I ask, tracing a painted butterfly with my finger.
“I did the leaves.” He stops and points proudly to tiny thumbprints scattered throughout the trees. “Papa and Uncle Kovan and Uncle Pavel did the rest. It took forever.”
The image forms in my mind—three grown men painting a mural for one little boy. I picture paint flecks on Kovan’s nose, his fingertips stained green, his eyes narrowed as he focusesbecause God forbid so much as a single leaf be done badly or out of place. My throat tightens unexpectedly.
“It’s gorgeous, Luka. This is really something.”
He nods and then the sprint continues. Luka drags me up the stairs and down a hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, running beneath spiky, modern chandeliers that catch the sunlight and glow like a canopy of diamonds.
The second door opens into the most elaborate playroom I’ve ever seen. Train sets, bookshelves that reach the ceiling, toy chests painted in bright colors.
“Close your eyes,” Luka commands, rushing to the window seat. I do as he says, just in time to hear the flip of a switch.
A softclick, then a whirring. Darkness takes over as blackout curtains descend over the windows on the far wall. Slowly, the warm, hazy, red depth that’s all I can see through my closed eyelids deepens into black.
“Okay. You can open them now.”
When I do, the room has transformed. Stars now bloom across the ceiling, constellations swirling against a backdrop of deep purple and midnight blue. The Milky Way stretches across one corner. Ursa Major glows in another. As I gaze overhead, a comet hurtles across the inky depths.
My breath catches. “Luka…”
“Uncle Kovan built it for my seventh birthday,” he whispers, awe still coloring his voice even though he must have seen this a million times, a billion, a trillion. “He said every boy should have his own galaxy.”
I sink down onto the thick carpet, staring up at the artificial sky. It’s perfect. Too perfect. The kind of thing that takes months to plan and install, the kind of gesture that speaks of desperate love.
“We sleep in here sometimes,” Luka says, settling beside me. “Uncle Kovan tells me stories about the constellations.”
“What kind of stories?”
“About aliens and angels and how the stars watch over us when we’re scared.” He looks at me seriously. “Do you think that’s true?”
I pause to consider my thoughts for a moment. “I think anyone who loves you enough to build you a galaxy will always watch over you.”
“Watch overbothof us,” he corrects. His smile is undimmable. “Because you don’t have to leave anymore, you know? Uncle Kovan says you’re his girlfriend now.”
At that, it takes all I have to hide my wince from him. “It’s… it’s really complicated, sweetheart.”
