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Since I lost Everleigh, nothing has felt like home.
“If you bring a woman here, make sure she’s vetted,” he warns me.
“That’s something you don’t have to worry about,” I say.
Even though I’ve commented about getting laid, it was just to keep people off my back.
I haven’t, and I won’t touch a woman. My heart, body, and what’s left of my soul will always belong to Everleigh.
Viktor glances at me before nodding. “Obviously, you can come and go as you wish. Just be here when I need you.”
“Do you have a schedule I can keep track of?” I ask.
Viktor nods, and pulling his phone from his pocket, he sends me an email. “Unless something unexpected pops up, everything is on that schedule.”
I check the schedule and notice there’s nothing planned for the next three days. I also see contact details for doctors and anyone who’s in the service of the Vetrov family.
“Take a couple of days to get settled. I’d suggest you drive around to get accustomed to the neighborhood and surrounding areas.”
Viktor takes a credit card from his wallet and hands it to me. “This is for business expenses. Your salary will be transferred to your personal account. You won’t be wearing a combat uniform while on duty. Get suits on the business account. You’ll find my personal tailor’s contact details in the email I sent you.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll leave you to it so you can get settled,” he says as he hands me the key to the cottage. Our eyes meet, and I see sincerity as he adds, “It’s good to have you here, Alek.”
“Thank you.” I watch as he leaves the cottage before I turn around, my eyes drifting over the space that will be my home until the day I die.
Misha married an Italian princess. Armani married Tiana.
They’ve both moved on with their lives, and we’re stationed far from each other. Misha and Armani will probably see each other often because of Tiana.
I’m on my own now.
Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the cottage to grab my luggage from the G-Wagon.
Chapter 23
Everleigh
Climbing out of the car, I take Vincent’s hand and walk toward the park where moms come so their kids can play.
I make a point of coming here once a week so Vincent can interact with other children. Just because I have social anxiety doesn’t mean he has to suffer.
“Jonas,” Vincent calls out, already tugging at my hand so I’ll free him.
“Fine,” I chuckle. “Go play with your friend.”
I watch as he makes a beeline for Jonas, and they head to the jungle gym.
Finding a seat in the morning sun, I pull a book from my handbag. For a while, I watch Vincent have fun before I open the book to continue reading.
I like fantasy and sci-fi books because they’re pure fiction and transport me to a different world.
Every now and then, I check on Vincent. The sound of laughter and the conversations from other mothers fill the air.
“Everleigh?”
My head snaps up, and seeing the customer from the store who I didn’t call, my stomach sinks.
