Maksim. My heart fluttered.
How had I missed the call?
I listened with shaking fingers, his voice grounding me even as it made my chest ache. It ended with, “So just breathe… and stay mine.”
Tears slipped silently down my temples, soaking into the pillow.
I turned onto my side, curling instinctively, one hand resting over my stomach, the other clutching the edge of the sheet like a lifeline. This room only had one window, though it was large.
Outside, the snow continued to fall—soft, beautiful, deadly quiet.
Yet somewhere across the street, someone watched, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I told myself to breathe like Maksim had said.
In.
Out.
Archer stood near the back wall of O’Malley’s like he’d been a regular forever, broad shoulders blocking half the dartboard, eyes tracking every movement in the room. He wore jeans and a Yankees hoodie—less obvious than a suit, but no less intimidating. He might’ve been trying to blend in, but customers avoided his corner instinctively.
Somehow, I poured beers with steady hands, and I smiled, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.
Normal, I repeated in my head.
This is a normal, everyday shift.
Archer and I had argued about me going into work. I knew there wasn’t anyone who could cover tonight because Brody and Rhiannon were having a date night. He’d specifically asked if I could work so he could take her to a nice dinner and a Broadway show. Jeana was out with the flu, and Lou was out of town visiting his grandkids. It was just me and Kiki. On a Saturday night during the playoffs, we were hopping. No way could she handle it herself.
Maksim didn’t really want me to work, but he said if I did, he wanted me to keep my eyes open and to have Archer within arm’s length. It was funny how, after less than three months, he already knew me so well.
Christmas was next week and yet it didn’t feel like it. I hadn’t gotten Maksim a gift. Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d be back in time anyway. That thought had me worrying about him.
So I shook it off and I joked with the regulars. I pretended the man guarding my life wasn’t three feet from the bar, watching me and everyone else in the bar like a hawk.
And for a few hours tonight, it was working.
Then, thirty minutes before closing, the envelope arrived.
Mike—sweet, oblivious Mike—slid it across the bar with a grin. “Guy dropped this off for you. Didn’t say much. Just nodded and left.” He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “I think you might have an admirer.”
My stomach dropped. No one I knew would drop off an envelope without speaking to me. The envelope was plain. White. No return address. My name was written neatly across the front.
Sofia.
My fingers went cold as I picked it up. Archer was instantly in a barstool across from me.
“Do not open it,” he said quietly.
I swallowed. “Maybe it’s from Maksim,” I hopefully countered, though deep in my guts, I knew it wasn’t.
“He wouldn’t do things that way,” Archer insisted as he held out his hand. “Do not open it.”
“I need to,” I fervently whispered. “It could have something to do with Maksim. What if he’s in trouble?”
His jaw flexed. He didn’t stop me.
Trying to hide the tremble in my hands, I slid a finger under the flap and pulled out a single photograph. That’s when the world slowly tilted and nausea roiled in my guts.
