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“I’ll walk you out.” I lift myself out of my chair and realize how long I’ve been sitting down. My joints are stiff and aching, which is annoyingly par for the course as of late. When she starts to protest, I hold up my hand to silence her. “I need the exercise.”
We make our way to the door and say our goodbyes, then Rose heads out. I’m standing in the entryway, watching her drive away in my car, when the secret cellar door opens.
Misha emerges, his expression grim and distracted. As always, it makes my gut twist with worry.
I know he’s got a stranglehold on Petyr Ivanov’s biggest business. Soon, the news will break loose, and so will all hell. I’m assuming that public humiliation is going to lead to some kind of violent retaliation from Petyr. But just what form that retaliation will take is anyone’s guess.
Misha stops short when he sees me standing there. “Not going for another run, are you?”
“Is that such a crime if I was?”
He leans against the door frame opposite me, but he might as well have his arms wrapped around me. He takes up so much space. So much air. Every time he is in the room, all I feel is friction.
“I’m not sure running so much is a good idea in your condition.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m pregnant, not handicapped. I can jog. Dr. Mathers cleared me to do a little light exercise every day. But don’t worry—I’ll be jogging around the grounds today. You can tell your goons to stand down.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good. That puts my mind at ease.”
“Does it?” I ask. “Because you seem pretty preoccupied with something.”
He stiffens. I know he hates when I notice things like that in him. The subtle shifts in his moods, his posture, his tone of voice. “It’s nothing.”
“I can keep a secret, Misha.”
He shakes his head. “There’s no reason to stress you out.”
“So you’re saying there’s something to be stressed about?” He purses up his lips, and I take that as a sign to plunge forward. “You might as well just tell me. It’s not like I don’t already know enough. Is it about the acquisition of Ivanov Industries?”
“Maybe.”
“I work in the same company, Misha. It wouldn’t kill you to share certain things with me. In fact, it might even help.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I sigh, realizing that, once again, I’m asking him for something he can’t give me.
We’re not partners. We’re not even truly husband and wife. How can we be, when the smallest hint of connection has him backpedaling fast? This is the whole reason I’m committed to keeping our lives separate within this mansion: because it hurts too much to see him put up his walls every time we find some common ground.
“Never mind. You’re busy,” I say, fairly sure I’m doing a poor job of hiding my disappointment. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. Excuse me.”
“Paige.”
I stop, chancing a look up at him. His silver eyes are conflicted, roiling. I can practically see the internal battle raging inside his head. “Yes?”
“You… Nothing,” he says wearily. “You should go rest.”
* * *
I pull on my leggings, sports bra, and a baggy t-shirt and go downstairs for my jog.
I start in the front courtyard and then embark on a big circle of the entire property. One lap takes about twenty minutes, so I figure I can get in at least two circuits before the sun sets.
But I’m barely halfway down the steps when the gates slide open at the bottom of the drive and a familiar car peeks through.Perfect timing, I think to myself when I spot Rose behind the wheel, coming back to give me the documents I asked for. I’d guess she’s on the phone with someone, maybe her daughter, though she gives me a beaming smile and a friendly wave as she draws closer. And you know, she really does look like me—
BOOM!
The universe implodes. Heat and shrapnel rip outwards, white-hot needles of torn metal tearing lines through my skin. I’m slammed into the earth by the invisible force. My eardrums scream and I have to gasp for every breath that fills my stinging lungs.
When the world finally rights itself, I look around, blinking through the smoke and dust for any sign of the car. Of Rose.
