LOGINShare
8
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Lost in Moscow's Secret 9
MILADURING THE INTERMISSION, ONE OF the theater attendants slipped a piece of paper into Ronan’s hand. He read it and then put it into his pocket. Call it intuition, but I knew Liza wrote the note.As the curtains closed and the lights came back on, we headed down the hall to the exit, but something drew me to a stop. A portrait on the wall in a gaudy gold frame. My mother’s hair was in an elegant updo, her eyes sparkling with an animate light. Ronan waited behind me, and if he noticed the uncanny resemblance, he didn’t say anything.I swallowed and followed himout of the theater.My mother performed here. Now I knew for sure, maybe I could come back and question some of the employees tomorrow. Someone had to know if she had family and where I could find them.Having beat most of the crowd outside, we passed the old-fashioned ticket booth, where my attention caught on an elderly woman sitting on the ground wrapped in a thin, tattered bla
Lost in Moscow's Secret 10
“The boy in that picture in your office, I bet he cares about you.”There was something between them—two dirty, homeless boys on the street—that screamed loyalty.“And who cares about you?”I didn’t hesitate. “My papa.” I knew it was true. No matter the secrets he withheld from me and the anxieties of abandonment, I knew he loved me.Ronan found something unpleasant in my response. “You have a soft heart.”I didn’t say anything because, as annoying as it could sometimes be, it was true. “Don’t,” he said, as if I could simply change it. “The soft ones are easier to break.”I wondered who gave this man such a jaded view on life, who cast him out into the cold street. Whatever happened to him, he was still kind and generous, and I couldn’t help but find that incredibly attractive.“The soft ones are the most loyal,” I countered. “And naïve.”“If you mean trusting, yes.”“I meant naïve,” he deadpanned.
Lost in Moscow's Secret 11
MILAAKNOCK WOKE ME. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my face when I saw it was only seven a.m. I’d stayed up watching Russian sitcoms into the early hours of the morning, my skin flaring with the aftermath of Ronan’s mouth on mine. It made sleep impossible to find.I still couldn’t believe how quickly the kiss had escalated, that I orgasmed in a public hallway fromonly the press of his thigh. I would like to think it was the cyclone of teenage hormones and lust I suppressed, but I knew it was because we had chemistry. The kind that sizzled like the sun on hot pavement fromsimply being in the same room. And now I knew he felt it too. I could only assume his disturbed reaction afterward was due to himremembering I was only nineteen.Like it would help, I planned to tell himI was actually twenty.When the knocking continued, I sighed, tossed the comforter back, and padded across the room to answer the door, half-expecting Ivan to be standing on t
Lost in Moscow's Secret 12
Entering through the front doors of the restaurant I slept in a few nights ago was a different experience today. It may be timeworn and slightly dusty, but the delicious smells that hit me in the face made me salivate. Unlike the first time I was here, the place was now full.I locked eyes with a man I recognized from that night. The smoker. He leaned against the bar nursing a glass of clear liquid. His gaze flickered with something so harsh I grew cold. I needed to look up United States–Russia relations the first chance I got.Ronan removed my coat, and the glide of his fingers down the fabric of my dress dropped my heartbeat between my legs. “Zholtoye,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes on the dress, as if he’d been wondering what was beneath my coat. Yellow.My breath slowed. “Tebe . . . nravitsya zheltoye?” Do you like yellow?His gaze lifted, holding, pressing, burning mine while stealing every ounce of breath in my lungs. He never answered me,
Lost in Moscow's Secret 13
MILAI DIDN’T SEE RONAN FOR two days. I spent my time thinking about him, being the worst private investigator to exist, and deleting my papa’s and Ivan’s voicemails.Food—thoughtfully, vegan—was delivered like clockwork by the same teenage boy with poor customer service skills. This was a relief because, one, it fixed the issue of my limited funds, and two, it let me know Ronan hadn’t forgotten about me after that very intense and confusing kiss.I went to the opera house twice during busier hours, but each time I questioned someone about my mother, they stared speechlessly at me, made the sign of the cross on their chest, or simply turned and walked away. It was frustrating, to say the least, but also . . . disconcerting.My only relief was, I didn’t see the man with tattoos on his hands again, and I was much more vigilant while out and about.I shut the door, having just returned from sightseeing. One could say the priority to find information about my mother had become jumbled wi
Lost in Moscow's Secret 14
“Idealnaya,” he said roughly. Perfect.He gripped the flare of my hips, palms sliding up. A soft sigh escaped me as the pressure of his touch ached between my legs. He ran a thumb over the yellowing bruise on my waist, eyes flickering with violence. All of the fight in me died like a breeze against a flame, leaving something heavy and softer in its place.His gentle caress wrapped around my heart and tugged it toward him. “You feel this too,” I breathed into his mouth.He bit my bottomlip and responded, “Shut up,” but there wasn’t any heat in it.He caressed the bare curves of my ass, the skin on skin liquefying every nerve within me. His lips traveled down my throat to the tops of my breasts, and he nipped the skin before sliding a rough hand beneath my bra to squeeze the flesh.Pleasure rushed to my core, and I hummed against his neck. “Pomni.” His lips pressed against my ear. “Ti eto prosila.”I didn’t get time to dwell on the Russian words because he unclipped my bra and pulled it
Lost in Moscow's Secret 15
I WALKED DOWN THE AISLE stuffing my arms full of snacks: popcorn, chips, something sweet because salty. Obviously, I was eating my feelings, and the woman behind the counter was judging me the entire way.I ignored her, grabbing a bottle of cucumber-flavored soda to wash it all down with.After last night, the impending doomof going home and wearing Carter’s diamond ring tore at my every nerve, but I couldn’t just abandon my life forever. Not for a city that didn’t welcome me. Not even for a man who made me feel for the first time in my life.I wasn’t naïve enough to believe I could hold Ronan’s attention for more than a week. The thought of never seeing him again already ached like a hot coal in my chest. How bad would it be if I gave himmy virginity?I had to go home.It was the only lasting thing I had.I dropped my load on the counter. The cashier looked completely unimpressed with my purchases, but she didn’t say a word as she rang me up.I paid with one of my last ruble notes, p
Lost in Moscow's Secret 16
RONANITOSSED THE EMPTY SYRINGE to the floor when her body went limp in my arms. I’d kept the injection in my pocket since she ran into me on her first night here, waiting for the right moment to put it to use.And this was not the right fucking moment.Anger sent a rush of heat through me as I wrapped an arm around her legs and lifted her, her long blonde ponytail hanging lifelessly. Beneath her coat, she wore a bohemian skirt with a slit to her hip and some kind of blouse that didn’t reach her navel. So impractical for a Russian winter.As always.Her head rolled to rest against me, tear tracks wet on her cheeks. I looked away fromher face and turned to see Albert behind me, his cautious gaze on the girl in my arms. He was as emotionless as ice, but I could only assume the barely-there look in his eyes was reservation about what I might do to her.“I will take her,” he said. I was sure he would.Annoyance flared in my chest. “You’ll go clean up the mess with Adams. There’s blood all
Latest chapter
Lost in Moscow's Secret 63
MILAEIGHT HOURS LATER, I GLANCED out the window of the private jet. “Ronan . . . did Moscow get an Eiffel Tower of its own recently?” “I would never allow that kind of romantic tourismin my city.” “Huh,” I mused. “So why amI seeing the Eiffel Tower right now?” “We’re in Paris,” he said indifferently. And that had been his attitude the entire flight: indifferent. He and those stupid “Delicious!” sounds coming from his phone were driving me crazy. Albert wasn’t any better company. He was flipping through a Cosmo in the row of seats at the front of the plane. I hadn’t seen Ronan in four months. I’d been burning up for eight hours waiting for him to touch me, kiss me, and drag me to the convenient bed in the back. But he hadn’t done any of that. When I got tired of waiting, I’d straddled his lap, ran my lips down his neck, and cupped his erection as it grew harder beneath my hand. I thought I was finally going to get what I wanted, but then he shoved me off
Lost in Moscow's Secret 62
ITOOK A LYFT RIDE to pick up Khaos on my way to The Moorings. Sweet Emma’s hair was sticking out in every direction when she calmly told me, “Maybe this isn’t the best place for him.”Khaos came to sit by my side, acting as innocent as could be, but one of the cats shooting a glare at himwas missing a large tuft of fur.I apologized profusely, feeling awful for leaving Khaos with Emma. Though I knew he wouldn’t do well in a boarding kennel. I had no idea what to do with himthe next time I had to leave, but I had two weeks to think about it before my next international shoot in Jamaica.On the way to The Moorings, I thought of Madame Richie and her stupid tarot card. I mentally tried to figure out the odds of her drawing that card. I imagined all kinds of crazy ideas—like she’d watched me frombehind trees for years and then played The Devil to unsettle me.Frustrated with my musings, I exhaled and told myself it was just a coincidence. A freaky coi
Lost in Moscow's Secret 61
MILA I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of Ronan. He might not be in the hospital room with me physically, but his presence was everywhere. After the doctors examined me, I often thought they rushed out of the room, phones to their ears, to update himon my condition. Only D’yavol would receive that sort of hasty, nervous response. The first conscious day in the hospital, a boy delivered a mini fridge full of vegan meals, a bag of dog food, and a note. Eat. —Ronan I would have rolled my eyes at the demand a couple of weeks ago, but this time, it brought a smile to my lips and a throb to my heart. Ronan had pulled some strings threatened someone to allow Khaos to stay with me, and I knew it because a dog’s portrait in the universal red no-entry sign decorated the wall outside my room. The gesture filled me with relief, because I didn’t think I could handle being alone with my thoughts right now. Khaos was the
Lost in Moscow's Secret 60
THE GUNSHOT WOUND IN MY arm throbbed and bled through my shirt. I must have busted some stitches open when I punched Alexei. And then Albert, who simply opened the car door for me after Mila dismissed me from her life. I didn’t know how to get rid of this irritable, edgy sensation beneath my skin besides violence—and even that didn’t release the tight, hollow ache in my chest.It felt like she was stealing something fromme. Pain I could stand.Robbery I could not.“I flew back for ‘important’business just to watch you silently muse on all your life choices,” my brother said in Russian, sitting on my office couch. “Care to share?”I didn’t know how to explain the feeling in any other way, so I sat back in my chair and said, “She stole fromme.”He raised a brow. “Your pet?” “Her name is Mila,” I growled.Kristian sipped the vodka in his glass, trying to conceal a smile. “So what’d she take? You do have some nice crystal glasses.”
Lost in Moscow's Secret 59
MILAI’D ONCE THOUGHT RONAN WOULD let me drown; that he would watch me sink, curly hair floating and aglow. But in the end, it was his voice that dragged me fromthe darkness.“Prosnis’, Mila.” Wake up. “Goddammit, prosnis’.”Ronan had demanded so much fromme since we met—so many orders he was confident would be met—but this request held a vulnerable crack. It wasn’t a demand at all. It was a need.I found another weakness. He was weak for me.Drawing in a shallow breath, I struggled to open my eyes. I forced themopen and saw I was lying on the floor of a moving car that vibrated beneath me. Yellow and red. My new coat was ruined, the faux fur matted with streaks of blood. Crimson-soaked bandages lay discarded around me. My shirt was torn open, and the sight of the hole gushing blood in my stomach made me so dizzy I was almost pulled under again. Though Ronan’s voice as he snapped something at Albert grounded me.My eyes lifted to Ronan, who ripped
Lost in Moscow's Secret 58
MILARAIN DRIPPED DOWN THE CAR window, blurring my view of remote Russia as Albert drove us to our destination. Snow capped the pine trees, outlined the horizon, and covered the ground.The winter wonderland melted and turned to mud in front of my eyes.My mind returned to an hour before, when Ronan slipped my arms into a mysterious yellow faux fur coat. I hadn’t said a word as he zipped it up before sliding my feet into a new pair of ankle boots. I hadn’t realized how dirty and worn my others were until then. He rose to his full height, pulled my hair out frombeneath my coat, and said, “Poydem.” Let’s go.Outside, I turned to give the house one last look and saw the menacing stone fortress in a different light. It was where Yulia’s eccentricity dwelled. Where Polina’s shouts and home-cooked meals could be found. Where rumpled black sheets lay undisturbed. Where doors, mirrors, and hearts were broken. And where sparks were made . . .
Lost in Moscow's Secret 57
“MAYBE I COULD BACKPACK ACROSS Europe,” I announced.Head resting on his paws, Khaos looked unimpressed with the idea. I’d snuck him in through the back door and up to my room. If this was my last night here, I didn’t want to spend it alone. Khaos had secured a decent chunk of my bed and was already shedding everywhere. I loved it.Even after learning what my papa did for business, it was hard to see him in a different light than the father who washed my hair when I was a child. I couldn’t deal with the thought of him dying tomorrow or the truth of my mother, so I focused on the things I could control.Lying on my stomach, I rested my chin on my hand. “I suppose you need some kind of monetary support to backpack—or at least a talent and a hat.” I sighed, depressed. “I don’t have either of those.”“What about college?” I perked up. “Maybe I could get a scholarship. I am a little bit smart— book-wise at least. I can’t say I’m street smart, or I obviously wouldn’t be here . . . But if I
Lost in Moscow's Secret 56
This was the first time I’d ever had the urge to stab someone with a fork. Instead, I brushed her hand off mine before her fakeness rubbed off on me.“I’mnot the one doing the subjecting here. Captive, remember?”She frowned. “Obviously, the staff feels bad for you . . . Just think of the hassle your diet must put on poor Polina. She is getting older and . . . larger every day.” Nadia shot a glance at Gianna’s belly. “No offense, of course.”“Mamma isn’t fat!” Kat yelled before anyone else could get a word in. “She’s growing my brother. And you’re rude!”“Kat, what did I tell you?” Gianna chided with a small smile.The little girl’s scowl at Nadia faded, then she mimicked the feigned look of pity she’d observed countless times this morning. “I’msure you’re only so rude because of lots of past ’motional trauma.” Then she added, “No offense, of course.”It was a violent struggle not to laugh knowing she got that “emotional trauma” bit from Ronan earlier. Nadia’s eyes narrowed, about to
Lost in Moscow's Secret 55
MILAYULIA STOPPED ME IN THE doorway of my bedroom, giving me a derisive perusal from my head to my toes.“We have guests,” she said sternly. “You must do something with your”—she flicked a hand at my chest—“bosom.”I looked down at said bosom and saw nothing wrong with it. I was even wearing pants for a change—high-waisted bell bottoms. One would think Yulia would take that as a win. I knew Ronan would.I lifted my gaze to hers. “They’ve been called ‘boobs’for decades, FYI. And considering the fact I was tied to a bed naked the last time we had guests, I find your request a bit hypocritical.”She put her bony hands on her hips. “That was only in guest room. You were not flaunting your bosomaround the house.”Spread-eagled naked for guests to see in the guest room:Not wearing a bra beneath my T-shirt downstairs: Made sense.I sighed. “What would you like me to do with my bosom, Yulia?”“Strap it in a bra,” she said as if it was obvious. “And not some see-through thing only meant to
