I sighed, annoyed that I’d have to worry about past enemies and current ones. And that they could very well be the same. Anya, by herself, wouldn’t be of value. When she was older, I could arrange her marriage, but I doubted I’d do that. She didn’t represent power in the Orlov organization. She had no shares or wealth, only what I set aside at her birth. Marrying her off wouldn’t give me any advantage over anyone else because I was already at the top. Besides, I was a living example of how arranged marriages could fucking suck. Olga and I were forced to marry and it turned out to be a waste.
Rubbing my jaw, I considered my nephew’s remark. “Niko Popov could very well be clinging to the past.”
Sergei nodded. “He might.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he is interested in Anya’s arrival. Because of how he wanted to be in my position.” Back when myfather decreed on his deathbed that I would honor a betrothal agreement with the Volkovs, set up by my grandfather, Niko was pissed to miss out on an easy connection with Russia through Olga.
“Which wouldn’t have happened anyway. He wouldn’t have gotten anything from the Volkovs because they pissed away all their money over the years.”
I tipped my head to the side to indicate we should go and get a couple of guards to assist with stopping these two trespassers and see why they were interested in Anya. The obvious was clear enough. Any family member of mine would be a target, leverage to reach me. Any woman I would ever take would be a target as well, and it was the biggest reason I only slept around without any strings attached, to ensure no one woman would deem herself asmine. After my late wife’s dismissal and avoidance of me, I wasn’t in any rush to ever be in a committed relationship with a woman again. Period.
“Besides,” I reminded my nephew, “Olga was already arranged to marry me.” With her instant loathing and lack of interest in being present as my wife, I had quickly dismissed any plans to further my business in Russia. I never needed to, diversifying my wealth here in the States and overseas. Olga’s coldness made my decision to cut off the Volkovs that much easier. I wasn’t going to try for an advantage when they preferred the Popovs over me.
We left my room, and I let Sergei handle calling for a pair of guards to assist us on this slight mission. Even though I was curious about who’d be trespassing on my property and having their sights set on my daughter, I was peeved to dredge up the past.
The drama of Olga and the Volkovs wanting to be aligned with the Popovs instead of me was old news. Annoying, dated news that I couldn’t give a damn about now.
Yet, Niko was still my rival.
And I was still as closed off to ever having a woman matter in my life again.
Heading out to keep Anya safe, though, I knew I was a hypocrite in that regard. I did care about her for the fact that she was my child, someone with Orlov blood.
But that was it.
I wasn’t going to rush to start a relationship with her. I wasn’t bent out of shape and hurt that she wasn’t interested in having me as a father.
No women.
I had to adjust that perspective where she was concerned, but in every other way, I wouldn’t be opening up to let any other woman matter for a long term in my life again.
Once was enough.
It was frustrating, though, that someone seemed reluctant to let go of the past now. That someone would target my other connection to Olga and tried to trespass in my home.
“Ready?” Sergei asked at the door that would lead to the roof-top access so we could ambush those two men.
I was ready to focus on business. Not my daughter. Notanywoman.
Flicking my hand forward in a gesture to proceed, even though Sergei had been checking with the guards, not me, I let out a deep breath and moved forward.
Let’s see what this bullshit is all about.
Anya wasn’t earning love from me with her attitude.
Still, I’d be damned if someone tried to take her or hurt her on my watch.
4
CLAIRE
Many of the patients who’d come in after that explosion at the restaurant were still at the hospital the following day. Burn victims would be lingering under intensive care for a while. Several stubborn men left against medical advice, though.
Fatima shrugged at the nurses’ station as we caught up on patients and what would need to be done next, which tests and diagnostics were necessary to follow up with. “Hey, I won’t cry when people likethatwanna get out of here.” She huffed with the specific exhaustion and annoyance only long-serving veteran nurses could earn. “I’d be handing out AMAs like they were Halloween candy.”
I shot her a look that I hoped conveyed a mixture of patience, amusement, sympathy, and mild consternation. All of us, from the LPNs and nurses at the lower range all the way to the attendings and residents, were expected to provide care without judgment. Yet, like what I’d witnessed and experienced last night, some individuals were just that much harder to handle.
“I know, I know.” Fatima set her tablet down on the counter and sighed. “I shouldn’t judge…”
