Page 27 of Married to the Don (Kornilov Bratva Duet 1)

I remember the realtor saying that word often when I was buying the place, but I hardly cared about the terminology. I liked the location relative to my office downtown and where I do business. And the private entrance and belowground parking garage meant I wouldn’t ever have to try and smuggle things or people through a crowded lobby and up an elevator without being noticed.

“Either way, you’ll have a roof over your head, food on the table, and you won’t have to pay a thing,” I say. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Molly’s normally dark complexion has gone an ashy gray color, and I’m not sure if it’s from the streetlights or the situation. More likely than not, it’s from both. She looks like she’s about to be sick.

I feel about the same.

I don’t like that I want her and Theo near to me. I’ve never wanted people nearby. Even with Fedor, I’ve kept him at arm’s length. I care for him in all the ways I can, but I’ve never wanted to share a space with him. I like coming home and having the quiet. I’ve always liked being alone.

Except now, mere hours after being introduced to Molly and Theo, I want to protect them. I want to keep them safe from any men Fedor may get to work for him. If he finds out I’m not taking out the people he thinks I’m taking out, he might decide to take matters into his own hands. Or, considering his hands are shackled, the hands of men more loyal to him than to me.

I will deal with that when the time comes, but for now, I’ll keep them nearby until I can figure out what to do. Until I figure out what I have to do.

“Has it been a minute?” Molly asks. “Because I’d like to talk about whether or not you’re going to kill me.”

She turns to me, her eyes clear and her jaw set. I admire her fire, regardless of how inconvenient it might be for me over the next several days or weeks.

“I don’t want to kill you,” I admit.

“But you might have to?” she asks after a long pause.

“Perhaps.”

She nods, absorbing the information. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

The question is dangerous. She has already done more than she could ever know to change my mind. The way she cares for Theo, the way she was hesitant to accept my offer despite her desperation, and the way she has continued to strive in the face of obstacle after obstacle have all gone a long way to make me admire Molly more than I ought to. Certainly more than I’ve ever admired anyone else I’ve ever killed.

If I tell Molly any of this, however, it will show weakness. A crack in the armor she could use to manipulate me. And I can’t afford to be manipulated.

“I want to see Theo.”

I need to exert some kind of control over the situation. I need her to know she should defer to my commands. That regardless of my temporary kindness, I am the one in charge.

So, I walk around the car and open her door, but I keep a firm grip on her arm as we walk up the stairs and into the entryway.

Molly smells like citrus. Like summertime and sunshine, which is in complete opposition to the dark cold outside. I hold her at arm’s length to get away from it, but there doesn’t seem to be an escape.

“Where is he?” she asks as soon as we walk through the door. She pulls against my hold, but I grab her tighter.

“In a little bit,” I say, ushering her into the sitting room just off the entryway. “Let me show you around.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when you can’t find the bathroom in the middle of the night,” I snap.

I can tell she wants to argue, but she presses her lips together and follows me through the house.

The building used to be an old warehouse, but extensive renovation and remodeling turned it into a large building with eight different luxury units. I can tell Molly is interested in the design of things as we move from one room to the next, but she doesn’t say anything. She just observes every detail, looking from the ceiling to the floor and back again. I wonder what she’s seeing.

When we get to the kitchen, I lean back against the counter and point to the coffee machine. “Why don’t you make us both some coffee? I suspect neither of us will be getting much sleep tonight.”

Molly raises an eyebrow at me in challenge and crosses her arms over her chest. “I spend all goddamn day making coffee for money. I’m not going to make it for you for free.”

“You work at a diner.”

She rolls her eyes. “What else do you know about me?”

“Less than I’d like to.” The admission catches me by surprise. I didn’t mean to say it. I’m usually not forthcoming with anyone about my thoughts or feelings. Especially with women. But something about Molly puts me out of sorts. Something about her makes me unsteady, like I’m standing on the edge of a tall building, trying to keep my balance before I go toppling off the ledge.

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