“Malysh?”
“Hey,” I groan. “What time is it?”
“Seven.”
“Five more minutes.” My head is killing me, so I just cover myself with the blanket, go back to sleep, and dream about being in school again. But then the dream transforms. I’m having sex with Roman, and we are in the middle of the deed when a guy with a knife comes out of nowhere and stabs Roman in his side. I jump up in bed, looking around. Other than Brando, who is playing with his ball in the corner of the room, I’m alone, and everything seems normal.
Feeling like a train has run over me, I drag myself into the kitchen, set the coffee to brew, and go to the bathroom. Showered and dressed in jeans and a top, I take out a bowl and prepare some breakfast. The clock on the wall shows noon, which means I have to be at my manicure appointment in an hour. A girl should doll up for her husband’s business partners, but I’m too exhausted, so I call and cancel the appointment between two spoonsful of cereal. I’ll play a trophy wife some other day. Maybe I should find Varya and see if she has something for my headache.
The moment I enter the kitchen downstairs, clinking silverware and clattering pots pierce right through my brain. I guess preparations for tonight’s dinner are in full swing. Igor is shouting at Valentina and pointing at the stove. Varya is sitting at the table in the corner, polishing the plates, but I can’t stand the thought of subjecting myself to this chaos any longer. Roman probably has something. I leave the kitchen and head to the other side of the house.
I find Roman sitting behind his desk, its surface piled with paperwork. I never thought that being the head of a crime organization would be so... bureaucratic.
“Do you have anything for a headache?” I ask from the doorway.
“Cupboard in my bathroom.” He looks up. “Is everything okay?”
“I think I caught a bug. Nothing serious.”
Roman puts down the papers and motions me toward him with his hand. “Come here.”
“I’m fine.” I roll my eyes but go sit in his lap anyway.
“Do you have any other symptoms?” He puts his palm on my forehead and then on my cheek. “Take a pill and go lie down. I have to finish a few things here and then I’ll come upstairs.”
“I feel fine, Roman. It’s just a headache.”
He leans in and kisses me, and it makes everything feel a little bit better. Shit, I’m a goner for this man.
“Upstairs. Now, Nina.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” I kiss him quickly on the cheek and turn to drag myself back to my room.
The lights are off when I enter my suite. I got carried away with work and almost forgot about the dinner. Dushku and Tanush will be arriving in an hour, and I expected to find Nina getting ready, but it looks like no one is here.
I turn on the lights and only then do I notice her lying on the sofa, curled up under a blanket. The dog is sleeping next to her feet. I wheel myself to the sofa and reach out to touch her face. She stirs and slowly opens her eyes.
“Is it time for dinner?” she mumbles and straightens to sit up. “I need to shower and get ready.”
“You won’t be going anywhere. You are burning up.” I take the phone and call Varya, instructing her to bring a thermometer and Tylenol. “Lay down. I’ll get you some water.”
I head to the kitchen and bring a glass and a bottle of water from the fridge. Nina is down on the sofa again, her body curled up under the blanket and looking so small.
“I feel like someone chewed me up and spit me out,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry, baby, but I don’t think I can handle the dinner.”
Something pierces me in the chest upon hearing the endearment. It’s the first time she’s done it without playing the part for the people around us. She probably didn’t notice saying it, but it still counts.
The door opens behind me and Varya comes in, carrying a bottle of Tylenol. She sits down on the sofa and takes Nina’s temperature.
“Go get ready.” She motions with her hand. “The guests are arriving in less than an hour. I’ll stay with her.”
* * *
Tanush and Dushku arrive on time. I take them to the dining room and motion to the four seats on my left side. Tanush claims the chair closest to me, and his latest wife, who is probably his daughter’s age, quietly sits down next to him. I pity the poor girl. Even under all her makeup and tons of jewelry, I can feel how scared she is. Dushku’s wife is a different breed. Both taller and wider than her husband, she’s rumored to handle all of her husband’s financial matters.
Maxim and Dimitri are on my right, leaving the chair at my side empty. They know it is meant for Nina, and even though she’s not joining us, neither one dares to take her spot. My idiot of an uncle, who arrives last, doesn’t seem to have any sense left, because he heads directly toward Nina’s seat. Fortunately for him, he raises his head just before he reaches for the chair. When he sees the look on my face, he quickly backtracks and takes the seat next to Dimitri.
I nod to Valentina and Olga, who approach the table and start pouring drinks. We’ve had these dinners quite often so they know the drill.