Page 19 of Scarlet Promise (Yegorov Bratva #4)

I smile as I drift into the kitchen, let Albert out, and make tea. I open some yoghurt and eat it with a handful of berries, humming to myself as I pour the water into the teapot to let the leaves steep.

“You’re happy this morning,” Erin says as she walks in, her eyebrows raised.

“I feel good.” I swallow. “I went to see Ilya last night.”

She smiles. “Demyan mentioned your ultimatum. Good on you for standing up for yourself and what you want. He means well, but sometimes he needs a dose of reality outside of his world.”

I nod, her encouragement warming me. But it also reminds me there’s something else I want to do. A real cause, not just my own selfish needs, but for the animals who need help, who deserve good lives.

And as wonderful as shelters are, if funds were available, as well as all the resources she could have, Eva would agree with me about giving them all a cage-free life all the time.

Their crates are as large as she can have them, and they’re comfortable to a point.

The walks and time out of them take up a lot of their lives, but it’s not like being free all the time.

It makes me fear for them going somewhere else, to a shelter that doesn’t have the same opportunities or support staff as Eva has.

I’d love to help all the dogs and cats out there, but Ilya’s words come back to me.

Baby steps.

I chat with Erin a little more, but she needs to get things ready for the day and for the children. I can hear them heading down the stairs.

I hug and kiss each of them, and Albert hurries back in to say hello to his pint-sized friends.

Then I make my way out, with Albert trailing me, to get to work on the shelter.

Ultimately, what I want to do is have land where animals can run and thrive until they’re either adopted or can spend the rest of their lives in comfort. But that’s a bigger kettle of fish, and my first step is either finding a way to save the shelter or find another place.

But Eva’s right that it’s hard.

Countless calls let me know that even if she could have a shelter in some places, the owners of the buildings are against it.

But as I dive into the research, I note something.

Until recently, the land for the block where the shelter’s located was up for sale for a long time.

I guess with no bites, the owner decided on another route by making it a higher-class area, charging more on rents and getting rid of the charity shop, the shelter, and a few other mom and pop stores.

But with the revenue he’d make, compared to what he was charging for the land, I think I know the plan. He’s had it up for sale a few times, and when he’s removed it from sale, he’s changed the vibe of the street.

Out with low-rent housing and up with stores and nicer apartments.

I bet he’s hoping to make this something like a fashionable and up-and-coming area where he can try to sell again.

Because the sale nets a profit for the landlord, which is something he is trying to get out of. That’s my guess from the amount of times it’s been up for sale.

My heart beats a little faster.

If I offer the previous price but also figure in—with help from a lawyer—the amount I’m willing to negotiate to, then I think he’ll go for it. He’ll want more than his previous asking price, but I’m okay with that.

Of course, to buy the block of land, I’d need to access my trust.

And to access my trust, I’d need to talk to Demyan, something I don’t want to do right now. He could say no, even though I know there’s more than enough to buy this land twice over with money to spare. But Demyan, with the mood he’s in, just might use it as leverage against me and Ilya.

Use it to keep us apart.

So instead, I continue to research and make notes so I’m ready when the time comes.

Later, I finally get to see Isla at The Roast for coffee and cake.

I hug her when she arrives, and we cling together like we haven’t seen each other for years.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you,” she says. “It feels like forever.”

Isla lets me go, and we sit.

“How are you?”

I smile, trying for casual, but she leans across the table and takes my hand.

“How. Are. You?” she says again.

I shrug. “I’m fine, really.”

We order our coffee and some cake, a rich apple and custard thing studded with pecans.

“And?” Isla prods.

“And the tension between Ilya and Demyan’s crazy.”

“They’ll get over it,” Isla says as the waiter brings us the cake and coffees.

Thinking about it all turns my stomach. The cake’s too rich after a tiny bite. The coffee, too, makes my stomach roil, and I wish I’d ordered tea.

I sigh. “It’s Demyan, not Ilya.” I push my coffee away too. “My life’s a mess, and I don’t know how to sort it because anything I do causes hurt. To me, to Ilya, to my brother. I want to be with Ilya, and Demyan’s being impossible. I had to fight to get some freedom.”

Her gaze goes to the window of the coffee shop because she hasn’t missed my bodyguard. “Is he freedom?”

“He’s the compromise.” I half smile. “I demanded I get to see Ilya, but it’s not enough, and I don’t know what to do.”

Isla squeezes my hand. “Give it time. Demyan probably needs time to get used to the idea of you two as a couple. He’s stubborn, but he loves you both.”

I nod, but really, I’m not so sure.

He’s stubborn, yes, but Isla has no idea just how stubborn my brother can be.