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I miss Andrei badly, but I won’t call. I can’t, not after I’ve walked out. It’s not to be mean, but if I hear his smooth voice … We’ll have to start over. I have to remind myself daily that he will never change. When I comb my hair, I stare down my reflection, telling it not to be a little dummy by crawling back to him.
My baby needs one sane parent, and I’m the only one not in the Bratva. Therefore … I shake my head and lean into the mirror.Not in the Bratva? You brought them with you.
I’ve allowed the restaurant to remain open, but the inn is closed to all guests, especially the curious ones that only want a “peek.” My men have taught me that assassins come in all shapes and sizes. A little old lady with thick glasses can quickly poison a glass. You don’t need twenty-twenty vision and lithe muscles to kill.
The scenic surroundings are hard to resist, so I order some outdoorsy clothing from Tractor Supply online and get dressed to hit the trails. I insist that I be allowed to walk, and to my surprise, the guards readily agree. The only caveat is that we vary the route every day and two people are always with me.
“I understand,” I reply, tightening my laces. “Talia could be lurking in the woods.”
Slava, my guard, flattens his lips. “Or your husband.”
I pause to stare at him, and he’s right. Sometimes I forget so quickly how Andrei and I met. A lump sticks in my throat as I tie my other shoe. What would I do if Andrei tried to grab me again? Would the Barinov guards defend me or help him?
“Are you okay?” Slava eyes me closely. He is young, about Viktor’s age, with unruly brown hair and a serious expression. His tattoo work is in high demand, even with rival Bratvas. Slava is an artist who notices everything, even how my unspoken thoughts affect my body.
“Yes.” I nod. “Just anxious to get outside.”
Downstairs, the men are in a cluster, laughing and talking as they check their phones. Typically, they would stop whatever they’re doing when I enter, but they’re too busy gawking at an image on the screen. They don’t stop until they hear me gasp.
“Paige Geraldovna, we didn’t know you were waiting.” Lev quickly puts the phone away.
“Who was that?” I almost shout. “Tell me!”
Lev shakes his head. “You don’t want to see this.”
I hold out my hand. “I’m not asking for an opinion. Give me your phone, Lev.”
Lev looks at the others and hands me his phone reluctantly. Instantly, I feel sick when I see a Karamazov guard’s lifeless and mangled body with a caption that reads, “Pakhan’s latest kill.” I hand the phone back quickly and steady myself, not daring to grab hold of anything solid. And to think I would’ve taken pleasure to see that only a month ago. What have I become?
“Snaruzhi!” I shout. My accent is improving. “We’re training today.”
The men hurry past me out into the backyard, not visible from the restaurant. They have little to do when Natasha doesn’t arrive with a mission, so I find things for them to do. And though I’m pregnant, I do what I can physically, like stretching and basic self-defense. Doing anything physical or mundane keeps my mind offhim. My husband who will never change.
“You’re not required to do all these things,” says Slava, smiling at me as if I’m dense.
“It is necessary for me to learn,” I correct him harshly. “Would you respect someone who doesn’t know your name or what you do?”
He nods, chastened, and leaves to start the lesson.
I take one step outside and decide against going any farther. The cold is too bitter today, and I feel guilty making the men exercise, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. They don’t care when I return to the house. In fact, they don’t seem to notice.
Before I can shut the door, I hear a commotion of a vehicle traveling down the road past the restaurant and to the inn.
Andrei?
I rush inside to finger-comb my hair in place and scowl at the silly pink overalls I’m wearing. My jeans can hardly button over my belly, and these pants look as ridiculous as the ones I wore the day he met me. I’m too agitated to sit, but I force my ass to stay in my chair. Wringing my hands, I act calm while I wait for him to enter the common room.
But it’s not Andrei. And I’m on my feet as soon as I see her, wondering how she got here.
“Emma?”
Then Viktor walks in behind her.
“It’s nice here,” she says, taking it all in. An oversized stone fireplace is situated in the center of the room, its flames crackling with each log added to the fire. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various styles of landscape artwork. Tables and chairs are scattered throughout the area for guests to sit and enjoy meals if they were allowed in.
My cheeks heat as if I should be embarrassed to be comfortable. “Yes, it’s nice.” I rush over to Emma and hug her close. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Viktor seems startled when I hug him too, but his arms gradually tighten around me and return the hug. We sit down, and Emma wastes no time getting to the reason for her visit.
