Page 28 of The Breath Before Forever

“Vera Av—Pashkov,” she was quick to correct.

It made Vaslav smile.

But only a little.

He couldn’t help it, even as Vera looked to him after her mistake with an awkward smile, he didn’t provide more emotion in his expression than he already had. This was how he needed to deal with the entire day, frankly, and nothing would change that. There was no other way to manage the hollow emptiness and rage his mother induced the closer he was to her person except to shut it all off.

It helped with the rage, anyway. The empty hollowness was another matter altogether.

“You’re good to go,” the security muttered, passing back Vaslav’s identification card that he’d first handed over when he pulled up to the gatehouse for the Roseville facility. Along with the card was a slip of paper printed with their names, vehicle identification, and a tri-digit number. In his flat gray uniform, the guard pointed at the gate just two feet ahead of the chrome grill of the Rolls, and explained, “You park in the spot with the matching number. Check in at the gate when you leave.”

“Spasibo,” Vaslav replied.

The man only nodded before his finger jammed into the speaker, causing it to buzz and crackle before it shut off. A louder, but similar, noise began as the gate started to slide sideways ahead of their car.

“Careful place,” Vera noted quietly. “Is there security at the front doors, too?”

“And throughout the grounds and building. You’ll never not see one, according to their information sheet. Not to mention, the fucking cameras everywhere. Could do without that, if I’m being honest.”

“Do they need all of it, though?”

Vaslav’s hand tightened around the wheel. “I’d say so. Everyone from the criminally insane to the last president’s wife are holed up here. I heard she comes and goes, however. Apparently, he’s got her a permanent suite she uses that she likes. It comes with a hefty price tag, no?”

“Really?”

“If we’re sharing, yes, I paid a good amount for Natalia’s treatment and time here. Not that it guarantees anything at this point. I’m now paying more for this,” he said, gesturing at the front windshield and what waited beyond it, “than I was to keep her the fuck away from me.”

He peeked her way, but Vera’s attention had already been snagged by the two-by-two-foot brass plaque on a tall sign with Roseville’s information spelled out for arriving guests. Once they were beyond the sign and gate, and the looming face of the Roseville facility was in view beyond the snowy entrance grounds, Vera couldn’t quite seem to settle in her seat.

She played with her nails, and then squirmed in her spot. She even unbuckled her seatbelt before Valsav could pull off on the paved, but icy, drive into the designated carports for staff or visitors.

He wanted to point out her nerves and ask about them—and would, as soon as he found their designated parking spot among the many rows of vehicles.

Vera filled him in before he could do either of those things. “You mean, what I’m paying, right?”

She didn’t say it with malice or sarcasm. Just an honest question with facts to back it up because he was there the night the paperwork was faxed through, and she signed her name on every line he told her to.

Each one for a different account. Banks, properties, and investments. All of it now belonged to her at the end of the day. Of course, he still had access to the money—or rather, he was able to handle the money and move it how he pleased with minimal limits, hence his ability to deal with his mother’s medical care, but that was only for practical purposes.

He had no intention of draining any account behind Vera’s back, or doing untoward things with the money that could cause her issues in the future. That wasn’t the point. His wealth was simply one more thing he chose to let go of—in a way—for the sake of his retirement. There was nothing to take; nothing to ruin if it wasn’t actually his. The accountant who previously handled his dirty money and protected it likely appreciated the constant threat that followed them simply by being attached to Vaslav’s money in a tangible way.

Not that it mattered now.

“If it helps,” he settled on saying as he pulled into the spot with the number that matched his slip spray painted to the brick wall their car now faced, “it’ll probably work out to the same at the end of the year if I factor in all the money I shovel out to clean up my mother’s messes. Her allowance was like a ...” He considered how he wanted to work that, trailing off long enough for Vera to cock an eyebrow in question. “A base pay, yeah?”

“And the rest is what?”

Vaslav chuckled dryly. “A consequence for my repeated stupidity.”

Obviously.

He had no one to blame for the mess that was his mother except for himself, and perhaps that was the part of this entire situation that bothered Vaslav the most more than anything else. Had he simply dealt away with his mother decades ago when she was at the very height of her worst and most toxic behavior, then he could have saved a lot of people from a great deal of grief and trauma down the line. Starting with himself, rounding out around his first wife, and now ...

Well, hindsight was what it was.

Vaslav glanced Vera’s way who had yet to make a move to exit the vehicle even though he had turned off the engine. “I was told they’re particular about keeping appointment times.”

Vera nodded, but absentmindedly. Her fingernails, on the other hand, took the brunt of her anxiety. “Oh, okay. I guess we’d better—”