Page 101 of The Wrong Monster

“I’ve missed you too.”

The words are simple, but they fix something.

We agree to spend the afternoon together, just us. No cases. No distractions. No Vasily, although I suspect that last part may be harder than I’d like when I glance toward him again, he’s still smirking.

I decide I definitely hate him.

He’s watching me with that infuriating smirk, one eyebrow slightly raised. God, he’s arrogant. Dangerous, infuriating, completely inappropriate and, unfortunately, very good-looking.

I sigh.

Apparently, my life has become a joke, and Vasily is the punchline.

Chapter 28

Vasily

By evening, I check us into a luxury hotel across from Central Park, and somehow this feels like the strangest part of the entire day.

I spent the late afternoon following Matilda and Isla around the city as they caught up over burgers at one of their favorite places. I stayed close enough to intervene if I needed to, but far enough away to pretend I wasn’t watching Matilda laugh.

I was watching her, though. I couldn’t look away.

After we left Isla’s apartment, my phone buzzed.

A succinct message from Art: This is stupid.

If anything, I was surprised it took him so long to find out I’d left and where exactly I’d gone. Timur had been suspiciously quiet though. What were the chances he gave Art a heads-up as soon as he got the chance?

Arthur wasn’t wrong. Leaving Lake Placid without my usual protection while Yuri is actively looking for an opportunity to hurt me is reckless. I know better than anyone what happens when a man stops thinking three steps ahead.

Except I wasn’t thinking about Yuri.

I was thinking about Matilda.

This morning, when she asked if she could go to the city, I told her she needed protection from Yuri’s men hunting her down and taking her out. That is a very real reality. It’s the reason I’ve asked my staff and my men to keep Matilda as close to home, my home, as possible.

When it’s been unavoidable for her to visit Mikhail, there are more men assigned to her than she knows about. It didn’t matter if she was going into the courthouse or doing research. Men she’d never look at twice, and women who look like they’re simply going about their day. Adults, every one of them. Watching from corners, from tourist-trap storefronts, from postal vans.

I didn’t come here with her without an ulterior motive. Yes, I’ll protect her.

If anyone comes near her with the wrong look, I’ll slit their throat.

I’ll dismantle this city and disembowel them.

The truth, deep down, that kept pulsing in the back of my mind any time I caught her scent or watched her laugh, is that I came to the city because I’m completely enamored with her. I want her; I want to be around her. I want to be the reason she rolls her eyes or glances back over her shoulder with a blush.

That’s when it finally hit me halfway through Midtown: I’m falling for her.

I wouldn’t have come here otherwise. I wouldn’t have put myself in this position. I wouldn’t have spent an entire day trailing her through New York simply because I wanted to be near her. I could have just sent Art, pulled him back from the security breach from a few days ago he’s been supervising with Ariadna.

As the day wore on, I noticed another problem: Isla knew.

Every time I caught her looking at me, there was something knowing in her expression. Amusement, mostly. Sometimes it was confusion mixed with concern, which made sense. As much as I carefully curated my overnight bag, it shouldn’t surprise me that a close friend of Matilda’s would mark me and quickly. And as more than just a dapper companion.

She saw straight through me.

Apparently, I’m not nearly as unreadable as I thought. But Isla didn’t say anything, not when they were catching up, not during dinner, not even during the animated walk back to her apartment. I tried to keep my eyes on anything but Matilda’s ass in those jeans, but I’m sure I failed.