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Avenge :Romanian Mob Chronicles(68)



“It couldn’t be helped,” he said. “Adela insisted I have someone around the clock.”

And that Christoph hadn’t put his foot down, had instead gone along with it, was further proof that things were as bad as I suspected, incontrovertible proof that there would be no coming back from this.

“Christoph, I—” I stopped short when the woman returned.

“Mr. Constantin, here you go,” the woman said.

She set a small tray on the table in front of him, grabbed the dainty teacup from it, and held it to Christoph’s lips. To my shock, he didn’t protest, just sipped, and the sound of his breathing evened further once he had finished the cup.

“Thank you, Lily,” he said.

She regarded him thoughtfully. “You’re welcome. I’ll come check on you later?”

He nodded, and she left, all without acknowledging my presence.





Two





Lily





My heart pounded, and for the first time since I had been in this house, I felt the stirrings of fear.

Real fear.

Fear that reminded me of what was at stake, and of what I was risking.

Before, this had been almost academic, me stacking one domino after another in my carefully arranged pattern, perfectly placed so that I could knock them down. I’d kept myself distant, used that distance to control my emotions, built a wall from behind which I watched the other me work.

He’d knocked that wall down in an instant, his potency, his power bringing what I had made a bloodless task back to the flesh, reminding me of the very real consequences should I err. Because when I’d watched him from the corner of my eye, so acutely conscious of his presence but doing everything in my power to pretend I wasn’t, I’d been left with the notion that he could—and would—end me, snuff out my life with no thought should I give him reason.

Which meant I couldn’t give him reason, couldn’t do anything that might garner suspicion, though my presence alone seemed to put him on edge.

I tried to walk slowly, casually, but with every step I waited for him to appear, to jump out of one of the long, dark corridor’s doors, grab me from behind.

But, I stayed calm, made my way to the room where I slept during overnight shifts. And only after I closed and locked the door behind me and sank against it did I allow myself to breathe. The exhale shuddered through my entire body, and with it went some of the tension that had gripped me.

I’d thought I was prepared for this, had assumed as much after I’d managed to work my way up, managed to look each of them in the eye, even the old man, and convince them that I was nothing more than what I seemed, a quiet, sweet little nurse desperate for some extra cash.

It had been a plausible front, still was, but the man down the hall, the one who had looked at me so intently that it had shaken me to my core… I wondered if he would be so easily convinced.

And something, probably common sense, told me that he wouldn’t be.

He had followed my every movement with inky-dark eyes, staring as if he could see under my skin, through my bones, and straight into my heart, my brain, the only place I kept my secrets and my plans.

I’d never been stupid enough to write anything down. Clan Constantin would never find a manifesto, a diary where I kept my innermost thoughts. And that had given me some comfort, knowing that only I knew what drove me. That fact had let me think that if I just held it together, no one would ever be the wiser.

But that man made me question myself, however slightly.

I could still feel his gaze on me, searing, probing, unnerving.

I sent up a small prayer of thanks that I had never seen him before, then sent up a bigger one that I wouldn’t again.

I would succeed. I knew it with every fiber of my being. My purpose here would be fulfilled. But that man might make an already difficult task that much harder.

And the thing was, I couldn’t say why. Yes, he was huge, intimidating, but they all were. Even Christoph Senior, infirm, not at all at his best, had the power to scare me.

But that man…he was something different.

He was tall, a weakness of mine, but I couldn’t say he was handsome. He was too gruff for that, and at first glance, one might think he was feral, uncontrolled.

But a second glance would prove the falsehood of that notion. Yes, his stature, his rough features all gave the impression of unrefinement, but the cold calculation that glittered in his eyes showed that much more was underneath. He was an odd combination, a powerful, imposing man wrapped in a fine suit, his clothing only underscoring the danger of his aura.

I was revolted by him, I told myself, by all those like him, but even that revulsion, the fear, couldn’t mask his power or dampen the thrum of electric awareness that raced through my blood, the feeling awakening something in me that I rarely experienced, making me feel alive in a way I seldom did.