MIKHAIL
I watchedher from the kitchen.
Catalina was learning how to bake.
That was fine, but the girl had never even boiled water before, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t want to be her tester anymore.
Fucking Nikolay.
He got it into her head that she should find her purpose in life, so that was what she was trying to do.
And if that purpose was to poison me with undercooked bread, she would succeed very, very soon.
It had been two days since we’d found her at the warehouse. She seemed to be adjusting well, considering what we had learned. We still weren’t sure if Bianchi was telling the truth, but if it were true, then would Agnello have known?
Was that why he’d treated her so horribly? Not because he didn’t care about his daughter, but because he knew she wasn’t his?
Considering all the medical exams he’d put her through while she was growing up, from the fertility test to the fucking hymen test, it wouldn’t be so far-fetched to guess he had gotten a paternity test as well.
My phone dinged in my pocket, and I looked down at it—more files of the police report from the bombing of the bookshop.
It wasn’t huge explosion, and no one died. I knew they’d used the bomb as a means to distract Leo and nab Catalina.
But something about this bomb didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t know why, and I requested our contact from the police station to send over everything they had found so far.
I couldn’t leave it alone, but I didn’t have time to think about it anymore because movements near the oven caught my attention.
My stomach tightened in protest when Catalina looked up at me and smiled, walking toward me with a slice of bread spread with butter.
I smiled back at her.
Fuck me. Since when did I turn so fucking soft, to let this imp of girl torture me like this?
I’d seen men wet themselves in front of me.
“Try this,” she said softly.
I swallowed and slowly opened my mouth. She fed it to me. I chewed on the dense, heavy texture of the undercooked bread, trying hard not to lose it over the soggy feel against my tongue.
“Good?” she asked, looking at me intently.
I nodded. “Yes, but I think you might have taken it out too soon.”
Her face fell.
Fuck. Me.
I wrapped my arms around her waist. “But it’s still good, kotyonok.”
“Really?” Her big brown eyes took me in. I nodded and took another bite.
She smiled. I grabbed her hand and stopped her when it looked like she was about to taste the bread.
“What?”
“I think you shouldn’t taste it just yet.”
She frowned. “Why?”