knitted thigh-high socks. And I swore, she was watching me with a hint of judgement in her eyes. For an uneasy moment, I thought the woman could be Ronan’s girlfriend and daughter. But then she spoke. “Please tell me this is some kind of kinky role-play.” I didn’t know what to say, but my expression must have told her everything she needed to know. She sighed and muttered, “In-laws.” I vaguely recognized this might be the sister-in-law Ronan mentioned, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because a man stepped into the doorway dressed in a cool blue suit, a sippy cup in hand. The woman hefted the girl higher on her hip, her voice dry as she nodded toward me. “Christian, look at what your brother has done.” My body tightened in mortification when his gaze came my way, though he seemed to be assessing the situation more than noticing I was completely naked. His face was stunning, carved from ice into perfection, and the mere touch of his eyes made me recall that photo in Ronan’s office. He was the other boy. Christian looked away from me and said simply, “She’s a Mikhailov.” “What’s Mikhailov?” the little girl asked. The woman put a hand on her hip. “I don’t care if she’s Satan’s daughter 33 “Close,” he responded. “Satan has horns.” The girl looked at me with a sense of disappointment. “She don’t have horns.” Weird child aside, wasn’t Christian’s brother the one they called D’yavol? I hated how everyone looked at me like I was some kind of monster. Now that I knew what business my papa was in, all the cold, fearful glances I’d received since arriving in Moscow suddenly made sense. “T’m not leaving her like this,” the woman said. “Mamma,” her daughter whispered. “Is she my babywatcher?” “Babysitter. And no, cara mia.” “Oh.” The girl pursed her lips. “Then we should probably let her go, Papa.” How old was this girl? And had she been raised in a den of vipers? He didn’t look pleased with his wife and daughter ganging up on him, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed the girl from her arms and turned toward