Page 30 of The Brutal Arrangement (The Ivanov Syndicate #2)

LUCY

W hen an Ivanov soldier approached me in the solarium one morning, I tensed up and wondered if this was how the rest of my life would go. If I’d always be on edge and worry that I’d be killed. If I’d forever be untrusted and isolated with no one to speak to on normal grounds.

“Damon asked me to bring this to you,” he explained, standing in front of me at the table where my coffee sat cold.

I raised my brows at the fancy phone. “That’s not mine.”

He nodded. “It is now. He wanted to upgrade your device.”

“All the better to track me, huh?” I seriously wondered who Damon or Maxim thought I’d talk to. I wouldn’t call Katerina. That bridge was burned. “No thanks,” I told the man. “I don’t need it.”

He frowned. “He insisted.” Showing me the screen, he pointed out a contact list. “This is his number, should you ever need it.”

Right. Like I’d need to call my husband.

I never went anywhere. And he seemed to have forgotten that I existed.

“Sure.” Whatever. Damon had made it crystal clear that he intended to have nothing to do with me.

I supposed it took my calling him out on his control issues for him to stay the hell away for good.

It’d just be nice if I could stop fucking missing him already…

“And he wanted to have you set up to view the cameras installed in your mother’s room.

” Pulling out a chair, he walked me through logging into the program to watch my mother on a nanny cam.

I listened to the man’s explanation, so overjoyed that I could see her without the stress and heartache of her not “seeing” or recognizing me when I’d ever visit.

“I’m not sure I understand why…” I shook my head, confused once he showed me how to log in. He also provided me with access to the nurses’ and consultants’ notes about my mother, a live feed of updates on her. “Why is this necessary?”

“I believe Damon wanted you to feel like you could oversee it all. Since we discovered the issues at her last facility, he put these measures in place so that it wouldn’t happen again.”

I frowned. “Issues?”

“Yes, the nurses were charged with theft, overdosing, and abusing patients.”

I gasped. “What!”

He nodded. “Damon has taken care of it.”

I blinked, stunned. I knew what that likely meant. My husband would’ve killed them. But I wasn’t appalled. If someone could be so heartless as to hurt dementia patients like that… they’d deserve it.

The man left me as quietly as he’d appeared. Sitting there with this phone, I was unsure of how to perceive Damon’s actions. This almost felt like a gift. But why would he bother?

An incoming text appeared and I flinched.

Damon: Did John show you how to log in to the program?

I stared at the line.

Lucy: I don’t know if his name was John, but one of the guys in suits came and showed me how to use this phone for that purpose.

Damon: It’s YOUR phone.

Damon: The other one wasn’t reliable or able to receive upgrades.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” I whispered, perplexed. He didn’t have to try to lure me or give me anything. What was the point?

Lucy: OK

Footsteps sounded, and I glanced up to see Sloane and Maxim entering the solarium, hand in hand. Jealousy burned hotter in my chest. The sight of this couple so in love reminded me that I’d never experience that.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?” Sloane asked, smiling pleasantly.

“No.” I shook my head, tense and curious why someone else would be approaching me.

“Good. Then you can eat with us,” Maxim said.

“I’d rather…”

He dragged a chair out for Sloane, who sat happily.

Never mind.

“And I’d rather you eat lunch with us so Sloane can stop nagging me about your being all alone.”

I shrugged. “I’m getting used to it.”

“Nonsense.” Sloane shook her head. “Go on.” She indicated at Maxim. “Ask her all your questions so I can hopefully get to girl talk with her afterward.”

Girl talk? With me? I doubted we’d have anything in common. Besides, I was far too defensive to make the mistake of thinking I could befriend someone again.

Maxim rolled his eyes.

“What questions?” I sat up, intrigued.

“About the Kozlovs. Katerina.” He raised his brows. “It seems that Damon’s got his head too far up his ass to consider having a simple conversation with you for the basic answers that are long overdue.”

“I don’t know anything,” I said. “I was just a maid.” Why couldn’t these people understand that?

“Sure. You were just a maid.” He nodded as members of the house staff from the kitchen brought out dishes for us. “But you were still there. In Anton Kozlov’s residence. You spoke with Katerina.”

Once our dishes were placed on this bistro table and the staff members walked away, he said, “Three years ago, I found the butler trying to stab Saul. He was placed there to kill him. So spare me the ‘just a maid’ spiel.”

Sloane groaned. “Well, clearly, she hasn’t succumbed to any violent urges since she’s been here, right?”

“Talk,” Maxim said. “So I can know if you can be trusted to be the recipient of my fiancée’s girl talk.”

“Talk about what, though?” I asked. Maxim was demanding, but he wasn’t quite as morbidly powerful as Damon was.

“When did you start working there?” Sloane asked, giving this conversation a smoother beginning.

Over lunch, I told them everything. The boring, plain details of how I’d worked there.

I left nothing out, mentioning the vague things I’d observed at the Kozlov house.

I didn’t leave out how I’d overheard that Damon was “Demon”.

When it came to Katerina, I was candid and admitted that I thought she’d be like a friend.

Only once I came to my time here, how I hadn’t heard from anyone from the Kozlov household, did I feel like a weight was off my shoulders.

“But she never said what she was looking for?” Sloane asked.

I shook my head. “She was often on her laptop,” I said, doubling back to how Katerina reasoned that she couldn’t fulfill this arrangement to marry. “She told me that she couldn’t come here and handle this marriage arrangement herself because she thought her uncle was hiding something.”

“Something?” Maxim asked. “Or someone ?”

I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she said something . She mentioned secrets and something about motivations. All I got was that she wanted to stay at that house or another house to investigate something. It seemed important enough to her that she’d ask her maid to stand in her place.”

They both followed up with more questions, and my story stayed the same. I got the impression they wanted to confirm that I didn’t seem like a supporter or fan of Anton Kozlov himself. And that Katerina didn’t seem to be on the same team as her uncle, either.

Afterward, I relished this freedom of being off the hook.

“I don’t see why I had to have this conversation with you,” Maxim muttered with a wry expression.

“Because, like you said, Damon has his head up his ass,” Sloane quipped. “So, does she pass your security check?”

Maxim shrugged. “If I thought she was ever a real risk, I never would’ve let her stay here at all.”

Gee, thanks.

“Okay, see, that’s why she seems so skittish.” She pointed at him. “That’s why she’s so defensive and not talkative or anything. You all act like she has to be some kind of spy.”

“I’m not,” I stated, just in case telling them one more time would help.

“Lucy, if there’s anything you ever need,” Maxim said as he stood and gestured for Sloane to get up as well, “please let me know.”

“Um. Well, I was thinking that if I just need to be here somewhere, could I have a guest room on another floor so Damon doesn’t have to be deprived of his home?”

Maxim sighed and shook his head. “No.”

“But—”

“No,” Maxim said. “I know things aren’t starting off well between you two, but if there is any chance you could care about him?—”

“He’s the one who doesn’t care about me,” I interjected.

I stood, determined to at least have my own space and not be reminded of how little Damon wanted to ever see me.

“If he wants to knock me up and dismiss me, then obviously, I can’t have any say in that.

But I don’t need to be in his space unnecessarily. ”

Sloane frowned, giving Maxim a pleading look.

“If there is any chance you could care about him,” Maxim resumed saying slowly, “then be patient. He’s not used to the novel concept of a woman actually wanting anything to do with him.”

I highly doubted that. The man didn’t learn to be such a sex god and master of making me come by fluke incidents.

Damon had to have had a very varied sex life before me, an experience that might have meant many flings or whores, but he was definitely no celibate saint to be that good with his dick. And mouth. And his hands and?—

Stop.

I sighed.

They left, claiming that Sloane was due for a nap, which she didn’t seem to want. I bet Maxim was probably using his insistence for “bed rest” as an excuse to have her alone. With how she giggled and smiled up at him, it didn’t look like she minded his attention like that.

Instead of feeling that jealousy again, I lounged and wondered if patience was all that I needed with Damon.

The gift of this phone and the log-in access to my mother’s room hinted at his giving a damn about me, but I couldn’t take that leap of faith yet.

I had been treated too badly for me to want to open my heart to him again.

He’d scared me off from the possibility that this “marriage” could be anything more than fucking to make a baby, followed by distance and dismissals the rest of the time.

Later than night, as I finished dinner in the apartment—alone—I began to settle in for the night. Going to bed without Damon was depressing.

But what isn’t depressing about my life anymore?

He’d given me a glimpse of such bliss and security, but it was just a physical thing.

He’d given me a preview of something that I thought could grow into something more.