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My hum is low, but he must hear it, as he leaves without so much as a backward glance.
I wait for the stomps of his feet to stop sounding into my office before picking up my phone and calling a frequently called number.
Darius answers two rings later. “Sir...”
I should order him to collect Mara, to continue the avoidance tactic I’ve been using the past two weeks, but I can’t do that anymore. Avoidance isn’t the solution. The jolt that darted up my arm when I touched Mara’s elbow is proof of this. I want her more than ever, and I’ve spent the last two weeks being told I’m one wrong move from becoming the demon from my nightmares.
I take a breath before asking, “Were there any mentions of a doctor in Mara’s file?”
He’s hesitant to answer, aware my fuse is short when it comes to Mara’s privacy.
“It is important, Darius.” Focusing on finding the man who hurt Mara may be the only thing capable of pulling me out of the bottomless pit swallowing me whole. “I?—”
“Mara hasn’t seen a doctor since a complication in the third trimester of her pregnancy.” Again, my thoughts stray to Tillie when he discloses, “She went into early labor. A training doctorat a women’s clinic five clicks out from Myasnikov helped her. She?—”
“A woman helped her?”
I sigh in relief when he answers, “Yes.”
If he had said no, my reservations would have been worse. Predators come from all walks of life, but Mara’s fret only surfaced when she learned Dr. Morgasten is male.
“Was there anything else? Anyone male?”
He waits a beat before answering. “No. But I have no access to her other files.” By other files, he means the name she used before she hid her identity.
I denied Fyodor’s suggestion of running Mara’s DNA through a private security firm. She is hiding for a reason, and I have no right to remove her invisibility cloak until I am confident I can protect her from any downfall its removal could cause.
“Have you changed your mind on Fyodor’s suggestion?”
I consider Darius’s question for almost a minute before I shake my head like he can see me.
He can’t. My office and bedroom aren’t wired with surveillance.
They are the only two places where I can be myself, hence me inviting Mara to infiltrate them.
“Cross reference Mara’s cleaning schedule with doctors who reside at the Chrysler building. I want to know if there was a doctor she once cleaned for but abruptly stopped, or if she lodged any complaints about any of the residents. She may believe he’s a doctor, but he could have falsely presented as one to scare her into not saying anything. People with power think they can get away with anything.”
Darius’s voice is as rigid as my hands are balled. “I’ll have a report on your desk in an hour.”
Just before he disconnects our chat, I call his name.
“Yes.”
I wait a beat before asking, “Are there any cameras in the servant corridors?”
Suspicion is rife in his voice. “I think so. Why?”
Instead of answering his question, I boss him around like the scent wafting through the air vents of my room doesn’t have me on the verge of being sick, and that he is to blame for the churns of my stomach. “I need access to them.”
I can hear his brain ticking over, seeking answers to questions he isn’t game to ask, but he keeps his tone professional. “I will have them forwarded to you ASAP.”
“Thank you.”
A second after I end our call, a knock sounds at my office door. I doubt it is my mother. She’ll need more than an hour to lick her wounds after our last tussle, though she isn’t nicknamed Vicious for no reason.
She doesn’t back down even when she’s losing.
“Come in.”