It’s an instruction. Not a question. I don’t have to make the decision myself. I just need to follow what he said. A sigh of relief leaves my lips. Clutching the note in my hand, I climb down off the bed and, taking the T-shirt he left, head out of the room.
Pasha’s place is very upscale. Everything—from the modern dark furniture to the soft, thick carpets and heavy curtains—looks expensive. There is no clutter, no little trinkets on the shelves, or anything like that. I found two other bedrooms, significantly smaller than the one where I slept. They don’t seem to be in use.
The living room is the largest space in the apartment, with a TV mounted on the wall and a couch and two recliners in front of it. I stand in the middle of the room and look around. One bookshelf. Several modern pa
