Page 27 of The Breath Before Forever

He offered that information to her as if she already had the final picture of the puzzle he’d put together in his own head regarding his retirement, and Igor’s subsequent takeover. Because she didn’t actually have the image he seemed to think she did, Vera tried to look at the situation from his point of view.

What must it be like to have to constantly contemplate the plans and intentions of those around you? As malfeasance and violence waited in every wing. In that case, wouldn’t everyone and anything look like a threat?

“Igor doesn’t have the legacy of the men who came before him. He doesn’t stand in the middle of the room as a warning to far worse men. I did,” Vaslav said, his stare falling back to hers as he offered an almost awkward smile. “And I still had four assassination attempts—two while my mother had me locked in the asylum. Believe me when I say the facility that’s housing her crazy ass is far kinder than the one she locked me into. At the very least, they might help.”

Vera was not ready for that dump of trauma he spilled into her lap. It was a terrible time considering he nodded at something over her shoulder, and immediately added, “There’s your mother and father coming out. Be mindful someone could hear, and if you sleep down the hall for one more goddamn night, I will chain you to our bed for the next month. I’ll need the extra warmth for the next bit. It gets terribly cold in Dubna, kisska.”

Her mouth popped open instantly. Vaslav grinned with a playful wink that made her jaw snap shut with an audible crack.

“You’re always doing that to me—at the worst times, too,” she muttered, turning to open the car door while heat flooded her cheeks.

“Relax,” he called at her back, “I’m not even getting out of the car.”

That news only helped a little.

Vera wouldn’t have to deal with the physical effects of Vaslav being near, touching and surveying her while she said her goodbyes to her parents. Instead, she only had to manage the mental lashing his lustful promise left her with while his chuckles chased her out of the vehicle.

“Promises, promises,” she taunted before shutting the door on his deepening laughter.

For the split second before she turned around to face her parents, who were already calling her name, the relief that swept through Vera left her almost light on her feet. She hadn’t realized how much she missed his playful, too-suggestive banter keeping her on her toes. Yet another thing that had been missing from her prior days.

“I would have come out to Dubna again had I known we weren’t going to at least have dinner before we flew out,” Claire said.

Reminding Vera of why this quick greeting and departure felt all too bittersweet.

“I know, Ma. Stuff ... happened,” she said lamely.

“Everything’s okay, right?” Claire asked.

“Sure it is,” Demyan told his wife. “Look, she’s smiling.”

Vera’s grin bloomed wider as she fully faced her parents under the car port. The white fox fur did well to keep her safe from the cold. Every blustery wind brought with it spiraling flakes under the roof as Vera opened her arms for her oncoming mother.

Somehow, Claire still managed to swallow her daughter whole with her hug although she wore a thinner, black tweed coat.

“I’m sorry we can’t come to dinner,” Vera said.

Claire pulled away from the hug with a shrug. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Demyan interjected before his wife could say more, giving Vera a pointed look before he added, “but you did promise us a visit stateside in the spring, yes?”

Had she?

Demyan noticed the confused surprise in his daughter’s face, but still encompassed her in his familiar, warm hug. “By the lake, remember?” Once he poked the memory, it did float to the surface, and the fact that she had only said it to stop them from fighting. Whether it was feasible now mattered little, though. Quieter, he told her, “I’m holding you to that.”

If she were being honest, lately, it seemed like the whole universe held her to a lot.

8.

“Name?” the security guard at the stone gatehouse asked.

“Vaslav Pashkov.”

As the man behind the fiberglass window with the speaker turned away to face what Vaslav suspected was a computer screen, he checked the woman in the passenger seat of the Rolls. Vera, more interested in the stonework of the tall wall that hid and protected the property within, didn’t notice Vaslav looking.

“And the lady?” asked the man in the window.

That caught Vera’s attention, and her head swung in their direction. Her gaze darted between Vaslav in the driver’s seat, and the security guard who hadn’t acknowledged her otherwise until that very moment.