Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(15)

I sigh. “I have reason to believe that at least one of the persons who organized the bomb meant to kill me is here in this house. Maxim covered most of the rooms with bugs two months ago, but he can’t place them in the last few without risking someone seeing him.”

“Well, I’m touched by your belief in my capabilities, but I really can’t see how I’m going to manage that if he couldn’t.”

“Because if anyone saw Maxim entering any of those rooms, they’ll know something’s not right.

But if anyone catches you, you can always say that you got lost.”

“Your house is huge, but I don’t think that I would get so lost as to enter the wrong room.” She looks offended. “I’m not an idiot.”

“That brings us to the second thing we need to discuss, and it concerns how people who live and work here perceive you. I need you to appear . . . let’s say shallow.”

“You mean stupid?”

“Not exactly. What I need is that, when people see you entering the room, they aren’t wary or suspicious. I want them to secretly roll their eyes and not notice what you’re doing, because they assume you’re . . . harmless.”

She watches me in surprise, then laughs. It’s unguarded and genuine laugh which reaches her eyes.

“Okay, you definitely mean stupid. Okay. I’ll need a few minutes.”

She leans back into the cushions, throws her head back, and with her face turned up toward the ceiling, she closes her eyes. She stays like that for a few moments and then starts speaking.

“Shallow. Harmless. A little bit stupid. Crazy in love with you, of course. Needs access to every part of the house. Let’s see . . . Who am I? Well, Roman’s trophy wife, of course. I am pretty, elegant, and extremely snobbish. I love wearing expensive clothes, just the best labels. I’m not really into dresses unless the occasion requires it. I much more prefer designer jeans, paired with silky blouses.

The heels are a must.”

She pauses, opens her eyes, and turns toward me.

“Are heels a must, what do you think?” She scrunches her tiny nose. “Of course, they are. Damn it.

I hate wearing heels.”

She closes her eyes again and continues.

“The heels are a must, and I have dozens of them. Roman loves when I wear them, he says they make my butt look amazing. I’m also very self-conscious about my height and wearing heels all the time makes me forget how short I am. My favorite pastime is shopping, and I buy a ton of clothes. My husband has to allocate one driver specifically for me and my shopping sprees.”

Another pause and she turns toward me again.

“Roman, I’ll need funds to support her addiction with clothes. She is an impulse buyer.”

“You’ll get anything you need,” I laugh. She’s completely nuts.

“My husband is crazy about me, and he allows me to do whatever I want with the house like

rearrange furniture, so the vibe of the house works better with the earth vibrations. The house feels terribly cold, so I buy a bunch of indoor plants and spread them everywhere. I also tour every single room because I want to make sure the unobstructed energy flows, so I rearrange paintings and

mirrors. I also hate the dining room table, it’s so overstated and I decide to swap it with a sleek glass one I found in one of the interior design magazines.”

Another pause.

“This woman is expensive, Roman. I hope you know what you are getting yourself into.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Your funeral.” she shrugs and continues, “My husband doesn’t like when he’s interrupted, but of course, that doesn’t apply to me. I often come into his office just to check up on him and exchange a few kisses. It annoys his men so much. They wonder what Roman sees in me and why he allows me so much freedom, and then decide he’s thinking with his dick. I’m always around, and they hate it.”

I’m fascinated with the way she’s creating this new person. It’s both crazy and brilliant. “She must be amazing in bed, to be able to wrap her husband around her finger that way,” I comment.

“Of course, she is. How else would she make him lose his mind like that? She’s not very bright, but she gives the best blowjobs.”

I imagine Nina doing just that, and my dick gets instantly hard.

She opens her eyes and pins me with her gaze. “I guess that’s enough for the start, I’ll develop her more along the way. What do you think? Would she do?”

“Do you do this often? Create different personalities and slide into them,” I ask, trying to suppress the need to grab her and kiss her silly.

“I did when I was a kid. It was a game. My mom hated it. Imagine having your daughter come

down one morning and reject the breakfast, declaring that she’s been a vegetarian for years when she just had ham and eggs for dinner the previous day. She yawns again. “Would you mind if I go take a nap? I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Why?”

Nina blinks, looks the other way, and jumps from the sofa. “The bed was too soft.”

I watch her as she runs to her bedroom and wonder why her cheeks reddened.




When I leave my room after my nap, I find an older woman standing in Roman’s kitchen, putting groceries into the fridge. She’s short with gray hair, wearing a classy yellow dress. When she hears me, she turns and smiles widely, which makes the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes stand out.