Chapter 7 - The Silk and the Blood|
The interior of Dimitri’s home felt less like a house and more like a museum built for a warlord.
High ceilings, polished dark hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the storm-tossed ocean, and expensive artwork hanging in shadow.
A elderly woman in a crisp black dress met us in the grand foyer, holding a silver tray with warm towels and a glass of amber liquid.
"Mr. Vulov," she said, her voice disciplined and calm despite the hour. "Dr. Petrov is waiting in the medical suite."
"I don't need Petrov, Irina," Dimitri said, taking a towel and handing it directly to me. "Prepare the guest suite on the third floor. Bring clean clothes. Something small."
"Yes, sir."
I wrapped the plush white towel around my shivering shoulders, staring down at my ruined apron.
Dimitri took the glass of amber scotch from the tray, drained it in one long swallow, and set the empty glass down with a heavy clack.
He turned to face me.
In the bright chandeliers of his foyer, he looked even more intimidating. The charcoal suit jacket was ruined—torn at the shoulder from the linoleum floor, stained with dark grease and spots of blood.
"You're bleeding," I whispered, pointing to his ribcage.
He looked down at his side, where the dark wool of his vest was soaked through with crimson.
"A bullet fragment," he dismissed flatly. "It barely scraped the skin."
"You need a doctor," I insisted, stepping closer before I could stop myself.
Dmitri looked at me, a faint, dark amused spark appearing in his gray eyes.
"An hour ago, you were terrified to look me in the eye," he murmured, taking a step toward me until the scent of his bergamot cologne wrapped around me again. "Now you're giving me medical orders in my own house."
"An hour ago, you weren't bleeding on my account," I retorted, lifting my chin.
May you like
His smile returned—that slow, dangerous curve of his lips that made my heart hammer against my ribs.
"Irina," Dimitri called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off mine. "Tell Petrov to come to the third-floor suite. It seems my new guest is demanding I be repaired."
