Page 25 of Ruthless Salvation

Don’t overreact. People lose their phones all the time.

I stood in the living room and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. I could always use email to contact people and help collect numbers. My recent photos would be gone, but I’d put all my voice messages and photos of Mama and Daddy on the cloud after the funeral. I’d almost deleted a message from Mama one day and panicked. I didn’t want to lose any more of them than I already had.

Thinking about it helped loosen the knot forming in my stomach. Just to be sure, though, I continued my search, certain the dang thing was bound to reappear.

Two days later, I still hadn’t found my phone or gotten a new one. I tried to be patient, but it was a losing battle. After my morning swim in the large indoor pool, I showered and wound my way down to Damyon’s office to bring up the matter again.

I didn’t realize he had company until I’d swept into the room through the open door. I froze at the sight of the two men sipping vodka on either side of Damyon’s grand wooden desk.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The unfamiliar man grinned, flashing a gold tooth before muttering something in Russian to Damyon. With one look and a couple of unintelligible words, he’d managed to make me feel dirty inside and out. I didn’t need to understand Russian to know his words had been crass.

Damyon swirled the clear liquid in his glass, his arctic eyes looking positively glacial. “Nyet.” He spoke to his guest, but his eyes remained glued to me. “I’m busy right now,” he said, finally addressing me.

“Yes, of course. Sorry again.” I excused myself awkwardly and hurried from the room a little hurt at the way he’d handled the situation. He’d dismissed me as though I were one of the staff. I wasn’t expecting him to make a scene or even introduce me, but I didn’t want to be coolly brushed-off either.

I went to the library where I spent most of my time and stared out the window to the unforgiving cold clutching the arid landscape around us. I hugged myself as a chill crept beneath my skin. Or maybe that was uncertainty icing my veins.

Everything about coming here had felt like a dream when I first moved in, but each day, I felt increasingly lonely. Damyon worked a lot. I knew someone as wealthy as him would have little spare time, but I just hadn’t realized how little. I wasn’t sure I was interested in wealth if it meant loneliness—especially when I lived so far from everything and everyone I’d ever known. I wasn’t sure what to do about the situation. I could tell Damyon that I’d started feeling lonely or bring up me possibly going on a visit back home, but I hated to put more on his plate when he was already so stressed.

I never heard him come up behind me, giving me even more of a shock when his hand clamped tight around my upper arm and yanked me around to face him.

“What thefuckdid you think you were doing?” His eyes spit furious blue flames.

“What?” I gasped, stunned at his sudden attack.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to flaunt yourself in front of a man like that? How could you be so fucking stupid?”

“Damyon, you’re hurting me,” I whimpered. I’d have purple lines where his fingers had been, though his bruising grip was nothing compared to the lashing I felt from his words.

He dropped his gaze, then yanked his hand away and paced toward the middle of the room. He ran a hand through his hair and took several deep breaths. When he turned back, he was calmer but still eerily cold.

Tears burned the backs of my eyes.

Why had he been so harsh? The door had been open. How was I supposed to know it was dangerous to go in? Thoughts swirled in my head, but seeing how close his temper was to the surface, I kept my lips sealed tightly shut.

“I am so sorry, Alina.” Wariness drew his brows together.

I’d learned in our time together that Damyon was twelve years older than me, putting him at thirty-two. It was a gap that had hardly felt noticeable … until now. I felt like a child being lectured by my angry father.

“You know I worry about you. If something happened to you because of me…” He didn’t continue as though the thought was too much to bear. Instead, he cupped my face in his warm hands. “I would never forgive myself.”

I nodded, emotion clogging my throat.

“I have been neglecting you,” he continued. “Come, let us get you a phone and get out of this house, da? A few hours out in that miserable cold will make us both happy to be back here again.”

I gave him a shaky smile. “That sounds good.”

We took a step toward the door when he stilled. “Der’mo. I cannot believe that I forgot.” He gave me a half grin. “Yesterday, I got word from my contact in the Ministry of Labor and Social Protection. He found your file. Would you like to know your birth mother’s name?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d almost given up hope after so many weeks had passed without any luck. A cocktail of potent emotions flooded my system until I didn’t know what to feel. “You have a name?” The question sounded almost as fragile as I felt.

Damyon wiped the tear that plunged over my lashes. “I do, and if she is still alive, I vow that I will find her for you.”

I threw my arms around his middle, so grateful I had him in my life. What was one little outburst of temper when he tried so hard in every other way to make me happy?

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