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Reaching for a wad of toilet tissue, I wipe, stand and flush. If that doesn’t get rid of the damned phone, I don’t know what will. With my luck, the stupid drain will block and I’ll be stuck trying to come up with reasons for how it got there.
But that’s the least of my worries now.
I have to get to town. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.
I need to know if I’m carrying Anton Ulianov’s baby.
Chapter 19
Anton
My footsteps ring out on the polished floor of my study as I pace back and forth, feeling like a caged beast. I clench my hands at my sides, knuckles white, aching to wrap around the throats of the men who threaten my son.
Men who once feared me.
If they know what’s good for them, they still do.
I run a hand through my hair and exhale sharply. And then, there’s Scarlett. Her image fills my mind, red hair spilling over pale shoulders, deep dark eyes gazing up at me with equal parts challenge and desire.
The woman is trouble.
An irresistible sort of trouble.
Nikolai adores her, and I…I am drawn to her in a way I haven’t been to anyone since his mother. But I can’t afford the distraction. Not now, when there are wolves at the door, howling for revenge.
“Papa?” Nikolai peeks into the study, clutching his stuffed bear. “Can I have a snack? We haven’t had dinner yet, so Miss Scarlett said I should check with you.”
I force a smile and crouch down to his level, ruffling his hair. “Of course,malysh.” My brave boy. So unaware of the dangers that lurk.
When he darts off to the kitchen, I return to my pacing. I have to protect him. Have to eliminate the threats. But how, without revealing the beast inside? The killer I’ve tried so hard to bury. I pause by the window, watching as shadows dance across the mountainside. It’s only a matter of time before the shadows grow longer and seep into our world, staining everything I’ve tried to create here.
In my old life, I would have worked the tension out by smashing my fists against a boxing bag. Or better yet, going up against a skilled sparring partner. No such luxury here. Luka won’t face up to me, and the security contractors he hired to patrol the property are not an option. The last thing I want is to have stories spreading about the animal who lives here. Namely me.
I keep staring out the window, eyes finally stopping on a mound of uncut wood that’s piled high on the other side of the rolling lawns.
That should do it.
Heading out of the house, I make my way across the garden. Scarlett will be occupying Nikolai right now, so I’ll be able to take some time alone to work through my frustrations.
There’s an axe wedged in a sturdy log. I rip it free and heft it in my palms. The weight of it is satisfying, and I swing it through the air several times to get a feel for it. The blade gleams as it cuts through the air, and I feel a smile form.
Cold steel.
It’s something I know. Something familiar. I grip the ax tightly and begin to chop. The force of each swing reverberates through my arms as I split log after log, pieces of wood flying away from me.
Wiping my brow with the back of my hand, I unbutton my shirt and peel it off. It clings to the light sheen of perspiration that’s beginning to build on my skin. Dropping it aside, I resume the steady swinging of the ax. The rhythmic thud of ax meeting wood fills the air, but it does little to quiet my thoughts. The danger that looms over us from my past has always been a burden I’ve carried alone, but now Scarlett is here, and I’m torn between wanting her close and keeping her at arm’s length.
I pause to examine my handiwork, realizing I’ve piled a mound of split wood that’s almost waist-high. We’ll be burning that shit for a month at the rate I’m going. But rather that than quietly go out of my mind.
I need to make a plan. Ivan’s words keep ringing through my head. “They’re coming for you,” he’d said.
Well fuck that. I’ll rain hell down on them before they do. Whoever has learned where I am, he’ll be the first one I’m taking out. After that, I’ll send some messages, just to make sure they get the memo.
Stay the fuck away.
The axe swings yet again, cracking down with a satisfying rhythm as wood splits and splinters around me.
My muscles burn, sweat dripping down my back, but still, the tension inside me simmers. I’m coiled too tight, like a viper ready to strike.
