My first week of work progressed pleasantly, and the rumors were manageable apart from one accidental eavesdrop when I learned I would be the cause of Vincent's bankruptcy. But everyone was nice to my face, and I was nice right back with the hopes they would stop focusing on my life and get on with theirs.

Bates had been helping me prepare for our trip to Europe, showing me the proper way to pack cashmere and offering tips for London footwear. He had finally gotten over his crush on Vincent now that we were officially Mr. and Mrs. At least, he was doing his best to pretend, like insisting he help me dress for Dmitry's party while filling me in on our host.

"Besides his secretive lifestyle, Dmitry Stepanov is known for his extensive collection of rare art and unusual relics. He uses several buyers to locate and procure his treasures. Some go to great lengths."

"What would be considered great lengths?"  

"That's depends on who you ask? Would disturbing sacred ground for the bones of a dead witch do it for you?"

"Yeah, it would." 

He pulled items from my closet and laid them out. Then he began pairing the outfits. "How are you feeling these days? Has that awful morning sickness hit you yet?"

"I doing pretty well. Not like some people."

"Well, you aren't like some people, are you?" He offered me a wink as he held out a relatively new wrap dress in teal. Not my favorite color, but it was an attempt at spicing up my predominantly gray and black wardrobe. "I'm not sure this makes the best statement for a private party. You're a Valentino. You need to command the room."

He switched to a black dress, lifting it and giving me a scrutinizing eye. "A little too form-fitting for your condition, I think." He laid it back down and I glanced at my belly. Was I showing already? I said nothing while he did the same with another black dress, pursing his lips and cocking his head side to side as if he was fitting me for an audience with the queen.

With a frustrated sigh, he gathered up all the dresses and returned them to the closet. "I thought you and Vincent went shopping recently."

"We did, but only for work clothes. I did sneak-in a red dress that I wore for the Mega Mag photo shoot."

"Really?" His pale eyebrows tweaked as he rifled through my clothes, yanking out the red bombshell number. "Oh, Dorothy. I hope you have the shoes." He pressed the dress against his body and spun around while I stifled a laugh, digging out the box with the Gucci heels. When he saw them, he actually squealed. "Gurl, you must."

"Do you really think this is appropriate, though? The invitation said a small dinner party of five, which means it's us plus Sam and Beth Martin. And I'm not trying to impress my boss or his wife."

"What about your host? Despite his reclusive nature, he's well known in social circles."

"I think I've got the social circles covered, Bates. Why don't I just wear the teal dress. I'll fancy it up with the necklace Vincent bought me in Verona."

Bates looked dejected, but he couldn't deny the red dress was not the way to go here. "Very well, but let me know when you decide to wear this. I want to make sure you do it properly."

"Of course, I will. And I appreciate your help tonight." While I'd had plenty of practice making myself look presentable, I didn't want to ruin the good thing I was building with Bates. I'd already experienced his bouts of jealousy, and I wasn't interested in a repeat performance. "Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?"

With a nudge and a fake best friend smile, Bates ushered me into the bathroom and proceeded to coat my hair with gel. Then he worked it into a fishtail braid, wrapping the band with a twist of leather. The theater never left him, which had become one of his few redeeming traits.

The drive to Peekskill didn't take long once we left city traffic. We also lost the sun, which meant I couldn't enjoy the mountain views or the historic village, only a glimpse of the lamplit storefronts as Vincent navigated the Bentley up a steep, winding road.

Vincent's GPS repeated the coordinates to Dmitry's home, but I still kept the invitation in my lap. There was a riddle on it we had to guess to enter the gate, and both of us had come up with different answers.

"So, which answer are we going to give?" I asked.

"I don't think it matters. We'll be let through whether we're wrong or right."

"You never know. The guy seems a little off kilter. But you're probably right. So, which answer do you want to give? Mine or yours?"

"We can give him yours."

I knew he was suggesting my answer because he wanted to make me happy, but I figured he still thought his answer was the right one. After many stomach-churning twists and turns along a narrow road with a fall-to-your-death drop just outside my window, we veered onto a pebbled path that led to a pair of gates. Beyond the scrolling wrought iron, a several story brick mansion stood like a relic from bygone days.

The pale glow from lampposts lined the curved driveway, and each one looked like it belonged on an eighteenth-century London street, topped with round globes. The home was embellished with the types of gaudy ornamentation one would expect from the pompous era, pushing my interest level up a notch. I'd brought my camera in case Dmitry was open to having his home photographed, and my excitement grew as Vincent pulled up to the speaker box outside the grand entrance. 

Within seconds of pushing the button to announce our arrival, there came a response. "Privet! Velcome!" Dmitry's thickly accented voice exploded out of the speaker. "I expect you are prepared to answer zhe riddle?"

"Yes, we are," Vincent said.

"Good. Let us do zhis properly. I vill recite zhe riddle and you vill give your answer."

"Fair enough."

"Vhat can point in every direction but cannot reach zhe destination by itself?"

Vincent turned to me and lifted his eyebrows. "You still want to go with your answer?"

"I know you think your answer is right, so if you want to give him that one, I'm fine with it."

Vincent turned back to speak to the metal box. "A compass," he said, offering up my answer.

"Hmm. A good answer, but I am afraid zhat is not zhe one I am looking for. Perhaps, you have another guess?"

I scowled, but Vincent didn't turn to see it. He merely gave Dmitry his answer. "How about, a finger."

"Ah, zat is zhe one. Vhen zhe gates open, you can park in zhe drive."

Being the darling husband that he was, Vincent didn't gloat. He merely waited patiently as the huge gates swung open, then he slowly maneuvered around the driveway and parked behind a white Infinity SUV.

"Is that Sam's car?" 

"It's Beth's, actually. Sam bought it for her as a wedding present."

"Oh. It looks new. How long have they been married?"

"Not long."

Vincent didn't seem interested in furthering the conversation about his ex-lover and how recently he had tied her up, and I was fine not knowing about it. Instead, he took my hand and kissed it gently before walking me to a pair of front doors. They appeared to be the originals. I could see fine cracks in the wood despite a fresh coat of white paint.

"I love you," Vincent whispered, breaking the silence as we stood on the stoop.

"I love you, too. And I'm not upset that you were right about the riddle."

He allowed a small smile to lift his lips as he looked straight ahead while a series of clicks emanated from the other side of the door. Someone was unlatching what sounded like a dozen locks. When the door finally opened, we were greeted by a tall houseman with hunched shoulders and Dumbo-sized ears.

"Welcome to the home of Dmitry Stepanov," he bellowed as he waved us inside. "May I take your coats?"

Vincent helped me off with my London Fog, while he kept his suit jacket on. This was fine by me. He looked good enough to eat when he went full commander-in-chief, and my thighs clenched automatically when I imagined what he looked like underneath. It had been nearly a week since we'd had sex, and my libido was ready to party.

While the men took care of my coat, I glanced around the foyer, and my gaze landed on a comfy fire burning inside a soaring fireplace. The fireplace was situated through an entry to the right, which lit a large sitting room. Past the sitting room, another entry led into what looked like a dining room.

All the floors were aged wood with a dark red stain. Some of it even covered the walls as paneling. Ancient settees and wingback chairs were arranged in circles, perfect for entertaining large groups, which betrayed the fact that the house had only one occupant. But the most remarkable thing about the sitting room was the plethora of shelves and glass cabinets that lined the space, each one packed to the gills with knickknacks and curios.

As I stared, Dmitry walked through the room to greet us. He managed quite well with his cane, avoiding the furniture easily, and I saw Sam Martin and his wife standing at the dining room entrance. They looked like a pair of deer struck dumb by the headlights of an oncoming car. I knew just how they felt.

"Thank you for coming. Ve vere just talking about zhe meal my cooks have prepared for your enjoyment. May I?" 

He reached for my hand, and I offered it politely. I thought he was going to escort me to the dining room. Instead, he lifted my hand to his mouth and brushed a chaste kiss across my knuckles while Vincent watched carefully. Dmitry's fingers were a touch cold, which could have been anything, but it creeped me out . "I do not take much time to engage vith my comrades, so please pardon my staff if zhey are a bit rusty."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," I said as I lowered my hand and offered it to Vincent. "You have a beautiful home. How old is it?"

"Zis place vas built in eighteen twenty-five. It used to be a finishing school. Zhe children vould study and visit here in zhe great room. I vill give you all a tour after dinner, dah?"

"That sounds wonderful. I brought my camera, if you don't mind that I take a few photographs."

Dmitry smiled. "I am happy to indulge you, Mrs. Valentino." He finally acknowledged Vincent, offering a curt nod in his direction. "I am glad you agreed to attend our little gathering, Vincent. I know you are a busy man. But I zhink you vill be impressed vith my collections. Most of zhe items are quite rare."

"Your home has already made an impression on my wife. That is all I need."

"Dah. Our joy often comes from zhe joy of others. Please, join us in zhe dining room."

Sam and Beth seemed happy to be in our company as we all sat around an overlarge table. Beth looked amazing, as usual, dressed in an Asian print dress that hugged her petite body like a glove. Her face was pale and bare apart from a simple line of kohl around her eyes and a layer of cherry red lipstick. A color she seemed to favor.

Again, Dmitry seemed at ease getting to his seat and locating the glass of wine the butler set in front of him. It was probably normal for a blind person to be comfortable in their own home, but I had no experience to base a comparison. Had he been blind all his life? Did a tragic accident cause it? I was dying to ask.

Conversation stayed in the realm of politeness, with Sam asking about our travel plans and Vincent indulging the table with a few juicy bits of family drama, like how my birth father is an asshole and nearly killed Vincent. He left out the part about the Valentinos and Bourdains being gollums, obviously, but Sam knew the truth.

After stuffing myself with a delicious meal of beef stroganoff, cabbage rolls, and knish, Dmitry suggested I retrieve my camera from the car before the tour. Despite his apparent blindness, he was able to describe his home in great detail while I snapped away, and my curiosity about his visual handicap grew stronger. Fortunately, Beth handled the awkward conversation for me.

"Can you tell me how you lost your sight, Dmitry?" The tone of her voice came out soft, which was the opposite of her norm, but I'd noticed she'd used it the entire evening.

"Ah, I vas beginning to zhink nobody vas going to ask," he joked. "I began suffering from a retinal degenerative disease some years back. I can still make out shapes and light, but it is only a matter of time before zhey vill go too."

"That's unfortunate," she offered.

"Dah, it is. But I am hopeful zhe scientists vill discover something zhat vill restore my sight again. Come, let us get our coats and go into zhe courtyard to have a look around."

Dmitry's butler, who he called Igor, brought everyone their coats, and we followed him to the back of the mansion where another fire burned inside a picturesque fireplace. This one was framed by brick pillars and boasted a portrait of a half-nude woman. The piece looked old, and Beth and I stopped to stare at it.

"Is that a copy of a Paul Cézanne?" Beth asked.

Dmitry wore a contented smile as he lifted his cane, using it to point at the picture. "No, zhat is an original Paul Cézanne."

Beth's mouth unhinged as she gasped in awe. "An original can cost upwards of two million."

"Zhat is right, but it is one of my favorites, and zhe opportunity presented itself. So, zhere it is." He left us staring as he turned and walked toward a series of glass doors. Directing Igor with his cane, the butler flipped several switches on the wall and six lights blinked on in succession, flooding the outside space with blinding florescence.

The floodlights illuminated a wood plank deck that stretched out toward a set of stairs leading to yet another patio made of brick. Beyond that, an elaborate maze of neatly-pruned hedges extended as far as the light could reach. Everything was dusted in a light coating of snow, giving it a magical feel, and Dmitry said nothing while everyone gaped through the glass. Clearly, he was enjoying the silence of our wonder.

"It is magnificent, dah?"

"I've seen some amazing gardens in my day," I said. "But nothing quite like this."

"Come, take a closer look," he said as Igor swung a pair of doors open, and the rush of cold mountain air took my breath away.

Vincent tugged me close as we walked outside, and Sam did the same with Beth as we followed the eccentric collector into the frigid January night. The more time I spent with Dmitry, the more his eccentricities seemed closer to obsessions. It may have been callous of me, but I couldn't help wondering why he spent so much money on beautiful art when he couldn't enjoy it.

Dmitry continued down the stairs, maneuvering all the way to the bottom without the use of his cane, although Igor stuck close by. While Vincent and I were less affected by the cold, Sam and Beth huddled together to keep warm.

"Did you buy the place because of the maze, or was it just a perk?" I asked, having decided the guy was probably crazy enough to buy a finishing school so he could play in the backyard.

"Zhe maze vas a requirement vhen I vas looking for homes in zhe states, but zhe location vas key. I vanted to be close to zhe city but I did not vant to live zhere. Manhattan is much too noisy for my taste."

"Where did you live before?" I probed.

"I have a home in Russia, outside zhe city of Moscow. Have you been to Moscow, Reese?"

"No, but I've wanted to visit for a long time."

He smiled. "Vell, now you know someone from Moscow. I vould be happy to host you at my home zhere."

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind."

Vincent squeezed my arm, and I gave him an innocent shrug. He was probably thinking of all the shit that could go wrong if we visited an eccentric Russian dude on his turf. Vincent needed to learn to relax a little. "So, how often do you walk the maze?" I asked, although as soon as I did, I second-guessed my question.

"Every day, no matter zhe veather. A Russian never lets a bit of snow deter him." Dmitry reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pair of three by five notecards, handing one to me and one to Sam. "Zhis is a map of zhe maze. I know it is not zhe perfect time of day to take a stroll, but if you vould indulge me, I am quite interested to know how vell you can navigate it."

"You want us to walk through the mazeright now?" Beth asked, pursing her cherry lips. Her diminutive stature may have been the first thing people noticed about her, but her attitude was anything but diminutive. 

"Dah. It is not too difficult. You should visit my home in Russia. Zhe maze on my manor's property could rival any other. For our challenge tonight, I vould like you to solve zhe maze vithout zhe map. Vith zhe map, it can be done in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes? I'll be frozen solid by then." Beth didn't seem inclined at all to venture into the maze with the temperature hovering around freezing. But, I had to admit, I was intrigued.

"Does the maze end back at the beginning or somewhere else?" I asked.

Dmitry seemed pleased by my interest, waving his cane animatedly at the labyrinth. "Zhere are two hidden doors inside zhe maze. One vill lead you to a small aquifer zhat supplies fresh vater to my home. Zhe other leads to zhe house zhrough an underground tunnel. In both places, you vill find varmth."

Vincent turned to me, searing me with those silver orbs. "Reese. I don't think you should be walking around in freezing temperatures in your condition."

"I feel fine, Vincent, and we've got the map." I waved the notecard in his face, but he didn't even glance at it.

"I assure you, it vill be perfectly safe," Dmitry added. "And if you solve zhe maze vithout zhe map, I vill have Igor bring a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild up from my cellar as your prize."

Sam gave a whistle as he offered Beth a look that could have passed for a beagle begging for a treat. "You know what a sucker I am for good wine, babe."

"Fine. Go solve the maze and freeze your ass off," Beth told him. "I'll be waiting for you beside the fireplace with a glass of wine in my hand." She turned to Dmitry, her red lips set. "Do you have anything less ostentatious? I'm not that picky."

"Of course." He inclined his head politely then turned back to the rest of us. "If you are ready to be on your vay, I ask zhat you keep zhe map in your pockets. I vill trust you to be honest vith me vhen you return."

Looking overly excited, Sam slipped the map into the pocket of his North Face jacket, and I did the same with mine, pulling out my leather gloves and tugging them on. All the while, Vincent wore a determined scowl as he stared out at the maze. He shouldn't have been worried. At the worst, he could just change into his gollum form and fly us out of there.

"Is everyone ready?" Dmitry said with an all too eager lilt.

Sam gave a thumbs-up, while Beth just rolled her eyes, kissed his cheek, and walked back through the doors into the manor. With a resigned head shake, Vincent took my gloved hand and we followed Dmitry's pointing cane into the maze.