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SUTTON

I feel only relief as we pull up in front of the tower. The twenty-story building stretches up towards the cloudless sky, all gleaming glass and harshly angular architecture, like a giant middle finger to poverty.

“Where are we?” Sydney asks, speaking for the first time since I forced her into the SUV.

“Oleg’s penthouse,” I explain as we’re ushered into the doors by the uniformed doorman. “This is where I first lived with him before we moved to the mansion.”

Sydney’s eyes widen as we walk through the foyer towards the private lift reserved for Oleg alone.

“Jesus,” she mutters as Ilya taps in the six-digit code that will unlock the elevator and take us up to the penthouse. “Is this place for real?”

“It’s the perfect place to be if you need a little extra protection,” I say. “It has biometric locks, twenty-four-hour surveillance, foolproof security features, and panic buttons in almost every room in the place.”

Her jaw drops. “Will I need it?”

“Hopefully not. But it never hurts to have the option.”

The elevator doors sweep open, right into the foyer of the penthouse. The first thing I notice is the giant Russian pacing between the two walls like a caged animal.

“Sutton!” Oleg barks the second he sees me. “Are you alright?”

“He didn’t even get within twenty feet of us,” I assure him. “I just got spooked.”

“And with good reason. We can’t trust that fucker further than we can throw him.” His eyes veer to Sydney, whose lips are sealed together. “You okay?”

Her wan smile fools no one.

But what Oleg does next takes us all by surprise.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a set of keys, and offers them to Syd. “Make yourself at home,” he says. “This place is yours.”

Sydney’s jaw drops. Mine does, too. “Wait—what?” my sister stammers, her eyes fixed on Oleg.

“Consider this your new home,” he tells her. “Family takes care of family.”

Sydney looks down and I’m pretty sure she’s fighting tears.

I don’t blame her. I’m this close to ugly crying, too.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Oleg assures her. “Just so long as you feel happy and comfortable here. I’ll have my guys bring over your things in the evening.”

Sydney looks at the keys for a long time. Then she reaches out and gingerly takes them from his hand.

“I think… I may need to lay down for a bit.”

Oleg inclines his head graciously. “Your room is the first one on the right.”

With a furtive glance in my direction, she slumps to the room. She’s still giving me strange vibes. but I don’t want to accuse her of anything before I have hard proof.

“She’s more traumatized than I thought,” I say, watching her go.

Oleg wraps his arms around my body. “Give her time. You don’t get over an abusive relationship in a day. The most we can do is be there for her. Support her. Give her the boost she needs to restart her life.” He guides me into the kitchen. “It’s what I would’ve done for my sister.”

I count myself lucky to be able to see this side of the infamous Beast of Palm Beach. There’s a beauty in the man that none have seen.

Even in his darkest moments, that’s what I choose to focus on.

“Thank you,” I whisper, pushing myself on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I hope you know that I would do anything for you,” he says simply.

I smile. “I’m starting to.”

Oleg orders enough food to feed a small army. He even breaks out the vodka. When Sydney emerges from her room a few hours later, she looks around as though wondering where the rest of the party went.

“No, there’s no one else here but the three of us,” I say in answer to her questioning gaze. “And yes, this is all for you to eat.” I hand her a glass of vodka and pick up my own glass of sparkling lemon water. “Cheers.”

Sydney takes a seat at the kitchen island and looks around. “Where is he?”

“On a work call. He’ll be back soon.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Does he really mean for me to stay here?”

“He wouldn’t have brought us here if he didn’t. You did want your independence,” I point out. “Now, you have it.”

“This is hardly independence,” she scoffs. “Mooching off my little sister and her husband.”

It’s the first time anyone has ever referred to Oleg as my husband. It sends a thrill of excitement racing through me, as fierce and powerful as a tidal wave.

“Enough of that. Like Oleg said, we’re family and family takes care of each other.”

Sydney stares at me for a moment. Then her face splits into a wide smile. “Happiness looks good on you, kiddo.”

“I think so, too,” I say, marinating in my own optimism.

She grabs a fork and leans forward to stab at a piece of beef steak swimming in a rich red wine jus . “Man, this smells good.”

“It’s from that restaurant down Main Street, the one with the crystal chandeliers and the water feature.”

“No way!” Sydney exclaims, tasting the beef. Her eyes go wide. “Whoa. That has to be the single best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth.”

I giggle. “Including Timothy Barnett?”

She snorts, spraying me with beef steak juice. The two of us descend into laughter as she grabs a napkin and dabs me with it.

“Yes, indeed,” she snorts. “Geez, I thought Paul was rich. I had no idea. Compared to Oleg, Paul was a freaking pauper.”

We’re still laughing when Oleg walks into the kitchen, his cool eyes warming as he takes in the scene. “You ladies having fun?”

Sydney sobers up a little, but the smile remains on her face as she nods. “Thank you for all this,” she says emphatically. “You’re being so kind and you have no reason to be.”

Oleg shakes his head. “You’re wrong about that. Sutton is my reason.”

Blushing, I reach for the grilled prawns while he joins us at the island. The minutes tick past and the more comfortable we get around each other, the easier the conversation and the laughter flows.

I see glimpses of the old Sydney—playful and teasing, coy and cheeky.

For a second there, it almost feels like we’re a happy, normal family, having a happy, normal family dinner.

That is, right up until Oleg’s phone starts ringing incessantly, causing the smile to slide off his face like melting butter.

It’s a cold, hard reminder.

We are not a normal family.

Not by a long shot.

I keep one eye on Oleg as he answers the phone, muttering in Russian before he excuses himself from the table altogether.

Sydney and I are clearing up the table when she sidles a little closer to me, her head leaning towards my ear.

“We need to talk, Sutton,” she murmurs, her voice more compelling than I’ve ever heard it.

“Okay… what’s up?”

Sydney’s gaze snaps back over her shoulder, to where Oleg is pacing back and forth on the balcony. “Not here. Not now. But… tomorrow. Alone, please.”

The urgency in her voice makes my stomach clench. I have a feeling those secrets of hers are about to rear their ugly head.

I need to brace myself for impact.