Page 44 of Sin Wager
"Vera?" Batya calls from the doorway. "I'm heading out to the market and the bank. Keep an eye on Elvin."
"Of course," I manage, sitting up slowly to avoid the wave of nausea that threatens. "How long will you be gone?"
"Few hours. His medication needs to be taken at noon." Batya pokes his head into the room and studies my face with concern. "You look pale."
"I'm fine. Just tired," I assure him, but I don’t know what it is. With Elvin being immunocompromised, if I get sick, it could make him deathly ill. I'd have to sleep somewhere else, and I don't have a clue where that would be.
He nods, but I can see he's not convinced. "There's tea in the pot if you want some. And bread on the counter." His voice is softer now, probably so he doesn't wake Elvin sleeping across the room.
The thought of food makes my stomach lurch, but I force a smile. "Thank you."
After Batya leaves, I drag myself to the kitchen and pour a cup of tea, hoping the warmth will settle whatever's wrong with me. The first sip comes back up immediately, sending me rushing to the bathroom with my hand clamped over my mouth.
When I emerge, wiping my face with a damp cloth, Elvin is awake on the couch, watching me with curious eyes.
"Bad night?" he asks.
"Something I ate, most likely." I settle into the chair across from him, avoiding his gaze. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a bag of bones, but still breathing." He shifts on the couch, pulling the blanket higher. "That man of yours wear you out?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "Elvin!" I hiss playfully, but I can't stop smiling. We're both old enough to be comfortable with the fact that I'm not a virgin, but he's never been so bold.
"What? You're glowing half the time and exhausted the other half. Classic signs of a woman getting thoroughly?—"
"Stop." I throw a pillow at him, but he catches it and grins.
"I'm happy for you, Vera. Really. It's good to see you with someone who treats you right." His expression grows more serious. "Even if Batya thinks he's hiding something."
"Batya thinks everyone's hiding something."
"Maybe. But this Misha…" Elvin shrugs. "There's more to him than he's showing you. I can tell."
Before I can respond, my phone rings. The caller ID makes my blood run cold—Sonya.
I let it go to voicemail.
"Who was that?" Elvin asks.
"Work. Nothing important."
But my hands are shaking as I set the phone aside. Sonya's been calling more frequently since Pavel's death, always moredemanding. I've been ignoring her instructions, pretending I'm too shaken by what happened to the jockey to continue our arrangement. It's a dangerous game, but Misha's protection makes me feel bold enough to try it.
The phone rings again immediately—Sonya, again—and this time I answer, stepping into the kitchen so Elvin can't hear.
"You missed yesterday's pickup." Sonya's voice is ice-cold.
"I told you, I need time. After what happened to Pavel?—"
"Pavel was careless. You won't be, if you're smart."
"I can't do this anymore."
"You can and you will. Your brother's treatments don't pay for themselves."
The line goes dead, leaving me staring at the phone with my heart pounding. The threat is clear—continue working for them, or watch Elvin's medical care disappear. But Misha promised to protect me, promised that his influence would keep me safe. I have to believe him.
I return to the living room, where Elvin is watching me with sharp eyes.
