I try to sidle around him, but he shifts his stance and blocks me with his whole body. Not a chance in hell I’m getting around him.
“Listen, I’m just going to grab some coffee with Angie. I’ll be back in, like, forty-five minutes. You can come, too! I’ll even treat you to the baked good of your choice.”
“Miss Resse, I was told not to let you out of the building under any circumstances. And I’m authorized to use physical force to carry you into an office and lock you in there, if you try to fight me on it.”
I’m so mad I can hardly think straight. I let out a groan, stomping my feet like a kid who just got toldnoat the toy store.
“Mr. Orlov worries. And considering how your last coffee date with Miss Angelawent…”
“Then come with me, sit at the next table over. It’s just… I’m going to go insane unless I can do somethingnormal.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But it’s not up to me. I have my orders, and my orders are that you’re to go nowhere other than here, the penthouse, and the doctor’s office.”
I stare at him. “You’re serious? Until when?”
“Until I’m told otherwise.”
“God, what’s next? An ankle monitor?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. It’d let me take a break every now and then.”
I let out a groan of frustration. The annoying thing is that a big part of me knows Sasha is right. Bad people are trying to hurt me. It makes total sense that he’d keep me penned up inside where I’m safe.
“Not to mention,” he goes on, “that just as Sasha is responsible for your safety,youare responsible for the safety of others.” He nods toward my belly.
“He told you?”
“Of course, he did. I need to know who I’m looking out for. Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Please go back to your desk. It’s for?—”
“My own good Yeah, I get it.” I turn on my heel and march back the way I came. I slip my phone out of my pocket and type.
Change of plans. Apparently, I’m not allowed to leave the office.
Angie gets back to me a few seconds later.
Prisoner in a glass tower. Kind of romantic in a controlling sort of way. We can reschedule?
I heart her text and shove my phone back into my pocket. Once at my desk, I plop into the chair and push down the scream I want to let out. The office is a quiet din around me. I watch a few coworkers get up and head to the elevators, no doubt off to their own lunches.
I feel silly and pissed off all at the same time, which makes me feel even sillier. Sasha is making the right call. I’m a target, and I’m pregnant. Really, he’d be well within his rights to lock me in my room at the penthouse and never let me out until he controlled the entire freaking city.
I hate it all the same. I hate feeling trapped, hate feeling like I’m just some little pawn that needs to be moved around and stashed away.
I try to work, but damn if it isn’t nearly impossible to focus.
After a time, I spot Bogdan headed my way. He’s carrying something. I squint and see that he has a drink tray in one hand, a couple of bags in the other.
“What’s this?” I ask as he approaches.
He sets down the tray on my desk, along with one of the bags. “Chamomile,” he says. “From the café downstairs. And a croissant. Didn’t have chocolate like you like, but I figured it’s better than nothing.”
“You didn’t have todo that.”
He shrugs. “You talking about baked goods made me realize I was hungry.”
