Adrik sighed as he watched her. Her erratic behavior was so evident that he was disappointed. How long had she been mentally unsound? Why hadn’t Rurik told him sooner? Did their father know? What would he do when Adrik tells him? Adrik came around the desk. She whispered and pleaded, but he took hold of her arms, comforting her. “I’m not punishing you, Luerna. I’m trying to help.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her briefly. Then he pulled away. “My decision is final.” Adrik walked out, giving her privacy to break down.
Tears were endless as she lay curled on the couch of the private jet. Luerna held her daughter’s blanket against her face. It was soaked with her sobs. It was the ugly kind of cry that was loud, painful, and full of snot.
Now, it was hours without them. Luerna wrote a list of things for the nanny: like how Irina needs her Peanut Butter and Jelly cut up into tiny squares, and Dasha and Kolya need to spend their crazy energy or they end up doing bad things, or how Maria is quiet and easy to forget, but she loves to snuggle, and her eldest, Rurik Jr, loves to ride his horse for hours but she needed to make sure he showered when he got in and not to let him sit on the couch. Luerna kept writing, but the soldiers were pulling her away. She couldn’t even say goodbye because they were sleeping.
Adrik wanted to think he knew what was best, but he was a man. He didn’t get it. He will never know the connection between a mother and her children. To separate her, he had severed her arms, her heart, her soul. She was empty without them. Not a person at all, but a shell of one.
What enjoyment was she to have? Watching TV without screaming in the background? Taking a bath without interruption? Eating food without having to share? What did any of that mean, really? None of it was important.
Luerna thought of revenge. It was silly, she knew, but she wanted him to feel as she did. But what could she take away from him? His cars? His favorite gun? She sneered at him. She hated him and all men currently for believing they knew more than she did.
The plane landed, and she was ushered into a limo. She didn’t care where she was. She had no plans of leaving the bed. She’d show Adrik that she needed nothing but her children’s love.
Looking out the window, she realized she was in Paris. The Eiffel Tower was a dull sight even though it was lit in an array of purple lights. She was far from caring if he thought to impress her with the location.
Her hotel room was a luxury suite in the city. She didn’t bother sitting on her balcony. Instead, she shut the blinds and sunk into bed.
The quiet ate at her, and she was in and out of sleep for hours. She watched the clock, knowing when her children would wake. Her twins were always the first to wake, eager to start the day and cause trouble.
A knock on the door and a servant entered, explaining their purpose. Adrik had hired a personal servant to fill her days with distractions. The first up was breakfast. She wanted to protest, but she was conditioned to follow the rules. Servants were innocent bystanders. If she had a problem, she needed to go to the source, but as Adrik hadn’t allowed her a cell phone, she was stuck following the servant’s directions.
In the restaurant, she sat at a two-person table. There were no guards around her. No care for who she was. She was immersed in normal society. The rich part, but the anonymity of commoners. No one greeted her or cared that she was sitting there. It was nice to be ignored; for the first time, she people-watched, sipping her tea.
It explains the clothes.Luerna looked down at herself. The servant was specific in their choice. Jeans and a blouse. But the most awkward thing was the white tennis shoes. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore sneakers. If ever.
Luerna hadn’t done her make-up, her eyes too puffy to fix, and she wrapped her long blond hair in a bun. It was her only rebellion. If forced to go out, she wasn’t going to look good doing it.
Luerna sawhimwhen he stepped into the restaurant. The morning sunlight amplified right where he stepped like it was set up precisely for this moment. Levka took off his sunglasses, roaming his eyes around the room until they landed on her. His face relaxed, every muscle seemed to ease, and a beautiful smile stretched on his lips. For the rest of her life, she knew in this moment she’d never forget it.
But she didn’t smile back.
Luerna could see the wounds on his face. There was a bruise on his lip and one on his temple that expanded into his eye, and a cut on his cheek that was patched up with stitches. When he moved toward her, he limped and held a hand against his ribcage.
A hand went to her mouth, and his smile drifted momentarily. He took a deep breath and regained the strength to greet her with a classy grin. “Hey, sunshine.” Levka leaned down, groaned in pain, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m alright,” he assured. But she watched as he sat, careful of his ribs, sitting stiffly like a board.
Luerna was aware she was in public. She kept her tears tight behind her eyes. But the horror of expression didn’t change. And she continued to stare.
Levka ordered a coffee, and as soon as the waiter walked away, he cackled. “I’m not that bad, sunshine, don’t look at me like that. I’ve definitely had worse. This is just the first day. I’ll be better tomorrow.” He removed a pill case and popped two, winking as he sipped water. “Helps being toasted, though.”
Luerna’s attention broke when the waiter came back with the coffee. Levka was polite and thanked the man, even complimenting him on his timely response. She took a sip to clear her throat and finally spoke. “What are you doing here?”
“Your brother-” Levka began, “-is an ass,” he finished with a smile. “But he loves money. We will be working together for a bit while he’s here for the next few weeks.”
“He told you where I was?”
“I asked him to send you here.”
Luerna shifted uncomfortably. All her anger toward Adrik seemed misplaced, but being angry at Levka wasn’t possible. “Why?”
Levka leaned up on the table with a silly smirk. “To take you out on a proper date.”
A giggle snuck through her throat. “A date? What are we in high school?”
Levka took a sip of his coffee. “I believe adults date. Pretty commonly, actually.”
That was true, wasn’t it? Why did it feel ridiculous? She was married and thirty-four. She didn’t go out on dates.
“You look beautiful. How are you?” Levka questioned. “Being without your kids?”
