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“Who’s that?” I murmur before I open the door for Vincent to get out.
When Alek walks toward us, I gesture to the car. “Will you check what that man wants?”
“He’s with me,” Alek explains. He waves for the man to come closer. “This is Peter. He’ll guard you and Vincent when I’m not around.”
“Guard?” I gasp like a fish out of water.
Alek gives me a patient look. “It’s for your protection,moya malen'kaya lyubov'.”
“Ooookay.” Not too sure about this, I hold my hand out to Peter. “Hi.”
He shakes my hand, then says, “Hello, Miss Adams.”
I glance at Alek. “I’ve never had a bodyguard before. What do I do? Does he come into the house?”
“No, Peter will always keep his distance. Just go on as normal. Pretend he’s not there.”
I scrunch my nose. “I feel like that would be rude. I can’t just ignore him.”
“Interacting with Peter will distract him. Just let him do his job.”
“Oh…okay.” I give Peter a lame wave before I usher Vincent to the front door.
Only then do I notice the door cam. “Did you install the camera?” I ask.
“Yes. There’s also a state-of-the-art security system. I’ll show you how everything works.”
Holy freaking crap. When the man said he would protect us, he meant it.
We step into the house, and a beeping sound fills the air. Alek keys in a code on a keypad before explaining, “You have five seconds to disarm the alarm.”
“What happens if I take too long?”
“A couple of things will happen. Myself, Peter, and Alexei will be notified, and you’ll have half the bratva on your doorstep in minutes.”
Jesus. That’s one hell of a security company to have.
“What’s the code?” I ask.
“Five, one, one, six. Everleigh and Alek forever.”
I stare at Alek for a moment too long before I say, “That’s kinda romantic.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Letting out a chuckle, I walk to the living room to turn on the TV for Vincent. “What do you want to watch, baby?”
“The Incredibles.”
I search through Vincent’s collection of movies, then press play.
With our boy watching The Incredibles, I turn my attention to Alek. “Vincent wants pizza for dinner. We only get it on special occasions.”
“What’s the special occasion?” Alek asks while he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“You.”
His eyes flick to me, and a hot-as-hell smirk tugs at his mouth. “What kind of pizza?”
