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“I need you to get in touch with Josh Sanders again.”
My eyes squint as confusion sets in. “Didn’t you guys talk about everything you needed to last time?”
“I spent more time stopping myself from strangling him.” He smiles darkly. “The thing is, for us to end Yevgeniy and dismantle the entire network, I need him to open a legal case without Yevgeniy noticing. Which is where you come in.” He pulls me closer, his voice deepening. “Pass information to Josh through Audrey. This way, Yevgeniy won’t know what hit him.”
He yanks me against his body in an abrupt movement. He can’t control himself anymore; he has to hold me. His shirt scrubs along my cheek. The scent of roses that saturates the air is warned off by his scent. Arsen has been working his way back into my life like an unstoppable storm. Caught up in it—in him—I can either weather the rain with a scowl or twirl in it with glee.
Winding my arms around his middle until my hands meet on the other side, I hug him fiercely. He locks up, as if unable to believe this is happening. Or perhaps he’s trying to control himself from ravishing me right here in his garden.
“I’ll do it. But you need to understand something.”
“Of course.”
Together, we’re unstoppable. “If you break your promise—if my freedom and my mother’s are reneged upon—I will never … ever … forgive you.”
My grip begins to slacken—he catches my forearms, drawing me tighter than I could manage on my own. Arsen’s assistance makes us greater than the sum of our parts, even in actions like a simple hug.
“I will never break my promise to you, Galina.” Shifting his jaw through my hair, he lifts my chin. His kiss comes with less hesitance than the pause before a thunderclap.
Arsen tackles all my doubts with his teeth and tongue. The sky has left the last remnant of the sun behind. There are no stars yet, but soon there will be, and we’ll still be here, kissing beneath them.
His mouth is warm … soft … welcome. Our kiss is all-encompassing, and nearly enough to quiet the clashing emotions inside my heart.
This is the right thing to do. Such an easy statement to make. But right for who?
The victims? My mother? My child?
Not least of all …
Am I doing what’s right for myself?
14
GALINA
Nothing tastes better right now than peanut butter and yogurt on top of a blueberry muffin.
I didn’t have this epiphany until this morning, but I’m confident I’m right. Why else would I be slathering my third muffin in thick white yogurt, licking chunky peanut butter off my thumb while hovering over the sink in the kitchen?
Because you’re a crazy pregnant woman.
Well, okay. That probably factors in.
Humming to myself, I wash down my mouthful of food with a glass of orange juice. It was freshly squeezed this morning, which boggles my mind because it’s only nine and I’ve been awake for half an hour. Does the staff ever sleep? Or do they wake up fully functional at the crack of dawn? I could never. Especially not lately. I’m a walking ball of exhaustion mixed with ravenous hunger.
Running my palm over my belly, I sigh. Sure, my feet are swollen and killing me, and I’m eating weird things, but I’m living my best life.
If you ignore the mystery surrounding my husband-but-not-really-my-husband’s possibly child-murdering inclinations.
Frowning as my mood takes a nose-dive, I stuff more muffin past my lips. I still haven’t had the guts to ask Arsen about Pyotr. Audrey hasn’t brought me any news either. I’m swimming in a sea of uncertainty as the baby I share with a possible murderer grows by the day.
“Good morning,” a familiar voice says. Ulyana has joined me in the kitchen. She’s dressed in her usual—she must have a closet full of the same-length skirts and blouses. Her blue eyes sparkle kindly at me. They match the gems ever present on her ears.
“I can make you a fresh pot of coffee. Decaf, of course.”
“I’d like that.” I rub my belly gently. “Thank you.”
Ulyana moves through the space in that efficient way of hers. The bitter scent of coffee grounds wafts to my nose. I’ve become more sensitive to smells in the last week.
