Again, like I seem to have been doing constantly since I learned I was pregnant, I press a hand against my belly, still flat beneath my blouse. I want this baby. That much I’m sure of. No matter what happened to my parents, no matter what the Ivanovs are hiding, I want to raise this child. I want to build the kind of family I never had. Even if I have to do it alone.
Yuri’s face flickers through my thoughts—those sharp gray eyes, the way he looked at me during yesterday’s briefing like he could read everything I wasn’t saying.
And then there’s Tatiana.
I’ve seen the way she hovers outside his office, the way she speaks to him like she owns him. I don’t know if they’re sleeping together. I don’t even know if I care.
No. That’s a lie. I caretoomuch. And it pisses me off.
I’m halfway through unwrapping my muffin when the unmistakable sound of stilettos strikes like gunshots on marble. I don’t have to look up to know who it is. Her perfume hits first, expensive and citrusy.
“Mind if I join you?” she asks as she slides into the seat across from me before I can answer.
I glance up from my tea, cautious. “Sure,” I say, my tone polite but thin.
She crosses her legs with practiced grace, setting her Yves Saint Laurent bag on the table with a soft thud, as if to drawmy attention to it.“How are you settling into our humble workplace?”
“Fine, I suppose.”
She offers a prim smile, as if she doesn’t really care about the answer. “Well, when I heard they’d brought in a new girl, I wasn’t sure what to expect,” she says, voice warm and bright, almost too much so. “But you look different than I expected. So… casual.”
I lift my mug and take a slow sip. “It’s work, not a fashion show.”
“Mmm. Of course,” she says, eyes drifting over me like a stylist taking notes. “I suppose there’s more flexibility in the department you’re in. Not as much pressure to fit in. They kind of tuck you bean-counters away. Makes sense, I suppose.” She shrugs.
So that’s how this is going to go—she’s bullying me.I don’t take the bait.
She leans in just a touch, smile still frozen in place. “And isn’t it wonderful,” she continues, “when companies are more inclusive about body types now? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter when you’re in a job where no one needs to look at you.”
For a second, I debate launching my muffin at her surgically perfect face. Before I can decide how to dismantle her with words, a familiar voice cuts through the tension, smooth as polished steel.
“Careful, Tatiana.”
Tatiana turns at once. Yuri stands just behind her, perfectly poised with a coffee cup in hand. Those impossible, storm-grayeyes find me, lingering just long enough to make my breath hitch and my skin flush.
Tatiana laughs. It’s too light and forced, coming too quickly. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, waving a manicured hand, her smile tightening at the edges. “You know how I get before my lunchtime espresso.”
Yuri doesn’t return the smile. He takes a quiet sip of coffee, then says evenly, “Astrid is part of this team. And I don’t have patience for high school antics—especially when they involve petty, immature cruelty.”
He doesn’t raise his voice, but the warning is unmistakable. Tatiana’s smile freezes.
“I should, um… check on a call,” Tatiana murmurs, standing up. “Client follow-up. Way overdue.”
“Yes, you should see to that,” Yuri says. “We can discuss the matter of an apology later.”
She spins and disappears faster than I would’ve believed possible in four-inch heels.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Yuri doesn’t move, doesn’t speak.
I meet his eyes, trying to keep my tone as level as possible. “Thanks. But I can handle myself.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile that’s sharper than it is warm. “That, I don’t doubt.”
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
He watches me for a beat longer before gently asking, “Are you alright?”
I shrug, forcing a lightness I don’t quite feel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
