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A week had passed since Sven brought Annalise to his home. Her presence was a ray of sunshine. He looked forward to starting his day with her, seeing her pretty smile and discovering new things about her. One thing that baffled him the most was how gullible and naïve she was. Seymour had told him that his sister was a mother hen in rearing her children. Her husband was a military man.Annalise and Robert had grown up sheltered. Her innocence never ceased to amaze him. It seemed she only saw the good in people. Sven often wondered how she’d spent twenty years of her life unscathed. She was like a lamb in a world full of wolves. The way she’d stayed pure was beyond him. Now he understood why Seymour had arranged for him to marry his niece. Without his protection, Annalise wouldn’t last a day in this cutthroat business.
After making a few arrangements, Annalise’s little brother was finally scheduled to be moved into a new facility. Sven was present in the room when the medical staff prepared Robert Conrad for the transport. Annalise clung to Sven.
“I’ve always wondered if he could hear me,” she whispered, “or understand me for that matter. Viehl has asked me numerous times to let him go. I couldn’t. Viehl said Robby might not look like it, but it was his body that was suffering. He wouldn’t be alive without the breathing machine or the feeding tube. Even if by some miracle Robby wakes, he would be forever confined to a wheelchair and needing assistance in every way. She often asked if that’s what Robby would have wanted.” Annalise paused. “I wouldn’t know if that was what Robby would have wanted. I’m just scared. I’m scared to be alone. Do you think I’m selfish to not let Robby go just because I don’t want to be alone?”
Sven gritted his teeth. “Viehl said those things to you?”
A faint nod. “In a way, I do understand her. Keeping Robby alive cost a lot of money. And most of it was subsidized by the government and taxpayers. And if I let Robby go, the subsidy money can be put to better use to help those who really deserve it.”
“Stop right there.” Sven lowered his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Any loving sister would fight for her brother like you do. I’d do the same thing if I had a sibling.”
Annalise looked up. Her eyes glazed with tears. “I’m not selfish?”
“Definitely not. You’re the best sister Robby could ask for.. Once your brother is in the new facility, we can put this ugly business behind us.” And in the meantime, he vowed to have a long talk with the hospital administrator Emma Viehl about courtesy and professionalism.
She wiped her eyes. “Thank you. I feel much better.”
“I promise I’ll use all my connections to have your brother cared for by the best physicians available.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you. You’re my wife, and you’re precious to me.”
Her face turned red. She quickly looked away. “Wow. You really take this marriage thing seriously.”
Sven wished she’d understand that he didn’t plan to let her go, right from the moment they both signed that legal document that bound them as husband and wife. He sighed inwardly. Perhaps this kind of thing took time. He never had problems getting women to fall in love with him before. Annalise was different. She was a challenge he didn’t intend to lose.
Things started to settle down once Annalise’s brother was moved to Sloan-Kettering. Annalise seemed happier and more content. She visited her brother in the new hospital every other day. When she wasn’t with Jenna Smith, Sven started familiarizing her with the business world. By the end of the week, he took her to Dune Industry to see Seymour’s office. The people in there had been itching to see Seymour’s successor. If there was unrest percolating behind the scenes, Sven didn’t see it. Not yet. He had some spies planted in Dune Industry when Seymour Dune fell ill. Sven was sure among all people, Cécile Mason was cooking up some insidious plan to thwart Seymo
ur’s wish of installing Annalise as his replacement.
As per Seymour’s instruction, his office was left undisturbed. Sven had come in twice after Seymour’s death to collect important documents.
Once they were seated in the private conference room, Sven explained the history behind Dune Industry and the lifeblood of their trade. He could tell Annalise was overwhelmed with the massive information she’d digested over the last few days. He had her dossier, which was prepared by a private investigator. Annalise had been a straight-A student until the six grade—the year her father fell ill. The family moved from San Diego to Brooklyn, New York. From there her academic record plummeted. By high school, she was consistently at the bottom of her class. Since she was eleven, she had been taking on any part-time job she could find. Baby-sitting. Dog walking. Running errands for the elderly. By the age of sixteen, she started working at the grocery store. At eighteen, she added waitressing.
Sven admired her her hard work and dedication to help out her family, even if it meant sacrificing her youth.
“You know, your real name is hard to pronounce,” said Annalise. She had Seymour’s old journal in her hands. “Svaen—Svaening—“
“SvæiningR Torviksøn,” he corrected.
“That doesn’t sound like a Russian name at all.”
“Why do you think I’m Russian?”
“You’re not?”
“No. I’m Norsk. But I traveled with the Roma all across Russia from the time I was an infant.”
“Roma?”
“Most Americans call them gypsy. My parents were said to be Norwegian. I don’t remember them, since I was so young. They joined the caravans from Bergen. I was born in Petrozavodsk. During our journey I became an orphan. Then a year later, I met your uncle. I was running away from the Roma.”
“Why?”
“I think because I stole food or something. Or maybe the beatings. I was the only one who had light skin, and all the kids bullied me. Anyway, your uncle found me just when I was about to freeze to death. He saved me. Gave me food and shelter. Taught me and sent me to school. I owed him my life. Owed him where I am now.”
“I had no idea you had such a tough childhood. And here I thought I had a difficult life. And your name— SvæiningR, what does it mean?”
