Julij rang on Monday to say that Nikolaj was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. There’s nothing left for the doctors to try. They stopped the chemo and put Nikolaj on morphine to alleviate the pain.
He had a few months to live not long ago. Now, he has days left. Every time my phone rings, I’m sure it’s Julij calling to say his father has passed away, but Nikolaj’s hanging in there so far. My protectiveness has kicked into overdrive, and I tripled Layla’s security.
I enter the living room, setting Layla down on her feet, soaking up the view. A ten-foot-tall tree stands by the glass wall overlooking Lake Michigan. Tinsel is wrapped around the bar, and the stair rail and a large glass vase filled with gold baubles of different sizes stand on the coffee table.
“Is this it?” I ask.
“Is this it? Is it not enough? You don’t like it?”
“I do, but I thought you’d buy more. I told you to reach the daily card limit. I doubt this cost twenty grand.”
She drags me toward the door, yanks her warm boots on, and runs outside, not waiting for me. “Tah-dah!” She stops in the middle of the front garden wearing just my shirt.
I drape a coat over her shoulders, looking at the house. A giant sleigh with six reindeer is parked by the garage while Santa climbs the gutter on his way to the roof. Hundreds of colorful lights hang around the windows, doors, and under the eave. They must’ve been switched off last night because there’s no way anyone could miss them.
“Please tell me you made Luca run up and down the ladder like the good boy he is to hang it all.”
“I tried, but he’s not that stupid. He hired a team. The house was decorated within three hours.”
We retreat to the kitchen for our morning caffeine fix. The maid busies herself preparing Christmas dinner for us. Over the past week, Isla rang every day to invite us to spend Christmas in New York, but due to Nikolaj’s worsening state, I can’t leave Chicago. Instead of flying over here, she decided that we’d face time at dinner and spend Christmas together that way. Watching my mother and her friends smiling from the screen of my laptop doesn’t sit high on my list, but Layla and I both need a breather. A moment to forget about the approaching finale.
Isla helps a lot with her babbling.
We spend two hours at the table. During that time, I joined the conversation no more than four times because my mother and her friends preferred to talk to Layla about her dissertation. We say goodbye at seven o’clock, and Layla hauls herself onto the table.
“You need to change,” I say, standing between her leg, my lips on her neck.
In the fitted evening dress with a slit that reaches all the way to her hip, she looks sexy, but without that dress, she looks even better. I slide it off her shoulders. It takes thirty seconds before she sits before me in nothing but black lingerie. Her hot body reacts to every touch of my lips.
I switch off when she’s close. Money, problems, the end of the war... all cease to exist. She’s the center of my world. My focus point. “What have you done to me?” I lift her into my arms. “All I see is you, baby.”
She runs her fingers through my hair, kissing my neck while I carry her upstairs. I lay her on the bed, unclasp her bra, and lean over her, pushing her legs apart with my knee. Goosebumps appear everywhere I touch while she battles with the tiny buttons on my shirt.
When I drive into her warm, tight pussy, a breathless, audible gasp fills the room.
“I love you,” she whispers, and for an hour, she repeats the words over and over like a prayer.
My heart swells every time she says that, but there’s something other than love hiding behind her words tonight. Something worrying. The way she says it, how she looks at me, how she craves my closeness... something’s wrong, but not one rational explanation springs to mind.
I lay next to her an hour later, a mist of sweat on my back. Layla immediately presses her cheek to my chest, wrapping her arms around me as she listens to my racing heart. She taps its rhythm on my ribs with her small finger.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” I press my lips to her head.
She stops tapping, lifting her head. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’re shaken up, Star.”
She sighs, holding onto me for dear life. “Let’s run away somewhere where no one will ever find us.”
“Why do you want to run? Aren’t you happy here?”
She sits up, pulling the covers to her chin to cover her boobs. “Frank called. Nikolaj’s at the hospital... the doctors aren’t giving him much time.”
“I know.” I brush my fingers down her spine. “Why does it worry you so much? You knew that he’s dying.”
She shrugs, avoiding my gaze. “I thought we had more time before everything would change. You and Frank... Julij wants to work with you, meaning he’ll cut out Frank.”
“No one wants to do business with Frank anymore. He messed up too much over the years. The only reason he’s still breathing is Nikolaj’s protection. The minute Nikolaj dies, Frank will try to kill me because if I’m not here, people will have no choice but to work with him.”