Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(30)

“There was a slight disagreement with our supplier and things got out of hand.”

“Kostya?”

“A knife slash on his side. He’ll live.”

I turn to look back at the island where the doctor seems to be finishing sewing Kostya’s side.

Maxim is placing an IV needle in his arm, while Varya holds up the bag of fluid.

“Should I help with something?” I ask.

“No, let’s go upstairs. Varya and Maxim have it under control, and the doctor will stay the night.”



*

“Is it always like this? Deals going wrong, people getting stabbed or shot?” I ask as we enter the suite. I’m still shaking. “Or cars getting blown up?”

“Not always. But it happens.”

My throat has gone dry. How can he be so calm? In the kitchen, I grab a glass and pour cold water from the fridge. “That’s fucked up, Roman.” I shake my head and gulp down the water, wishing it was something stronger. “Your world is seriously fucked up.”

“There is nothing I can do about it, Nina,” he says.

Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at things. I should go back to bed but I’m too agitated, so I walk across the living room and stand at the window overlooking the driveway. The cars are gone.

One security guy is standing on the side in front of the main door, a gun on his belt. Another one is patrolling the grounds toward the main gate, and this one has a rifle across his back. It looks like everything is back to normal in Roman’s world.

I hear Roman approaching as he comes to stand behind me. His crutches enter my field of vision on either side while he hunches over me and places his chin on the top of my head. I’ve never felt so petite compared to him as I do with his huge body plastered to my back, but there is no panic. I guess all the adrenalin cured me of it.

“Where are we now, Roman?”

“What do you mean?”

“We had sex,” I say, watching the man patrolling the grounds. “It wasn’t something we planned for, you know. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know, malysh. Where would you like to go?”

“I’m not sure.”

There is silence while we both watch the night, its darkness broken by numerous lights set up around the lawn.



“It’s late,” Roman says and places a kiss on my shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Which one?”

“Well, I’ll be in mine.” He kisses the side of my neck. “And you can choose which one it will be for you. Your bed, or mine.”

He leaves me standing at the window to consider his parting words. I know what I should do - go to my room and forget what happened on the sofa altogether. It would be the wisest choice. In fact, it should be the only choice.

I guess “wise” isn’t in my cards. I turn around and head into Roman’s room.




I watch Nina’s sleeping form snuggled under the blanket, her hair tangled and sprawled across my pillow. The sight of her there, in my bed, makes a strange warm feeling fill my chest.

“Warren’s here.” I place a light kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll be in the gym.”

“Have fun,” she mumbles into the pillow and continues sleeping.

Smiling, I get into my wheelchair and leave the room. She needs her sleep; we can continue where we left off later.

When I finish with my therapy session, Nina is still asleep, so I take a shower and go downstairs to my office. Maxim is already waiting for me, and by the look on his face, he has nothing pleasant to say.

“You need to invite the Albanians over, Roman. Soon.”

“Not happening.” I wheel myself behind my desk, power up my laptop, and start rummaging

through the papers on my desk.

“I think you should reconsider.”

“I am not in a mood for entertaining Albanians.”

“We need them as partners; you know that. You haven’t met with them for months.” He sits in the chair opposite of me and leans forward. “They need to be assured that everything is in order.”

“They are getting more money than in previous years, so I don’t see why they would be

concerned.”

“If they don’t feel we are invested as partners, they might turn to someone else, Roman. The last time I saw him, Tanush mentioned approaching the Italians. He put it as a joke, but he is thinking about it.”

“Perfect. Just what I need.” I toss the pen onto the papers.

Maxim leans back and crosses his arms. “So, who are we inviting?”

“Tanush and his wife. I think he’s on the fifth one now. And Dushku and his wife. That’s it.”

“What about Hajdini?” he asks.

“No. He and Dushku are not on speaking terms lately. I don’t need bloodshed.”

“Alright. When?”

“Nina has her exhibition next weekend, so it’ll have to be this Saturday.”

“I’ll let Tanush know.” Maxim smiles. “Varya will be thrilled; she just changed the rugs.”

“I’ll tell her it was your idea. Especially if it does end in bloodshed. Tanush might be a little hostile anyway, so make sure the men know.”