And I would burn the world down before I let anyone take it from me.
Chapter 18 - Keira
I was going to lose my mind.
A week in the penthouse, and I'd read six books, watched more television than I'd watched in the past year combined, and memorized every inch of the view from every window. I'd organized the kitchen cabinets, rearranged the books in Rodion's study by subject instead of author, and done yoga in the living room until my muscles screamed for mercy.
None of it helped.
I was a woman who worked. Who had purpose. Who spent her days helping people navigate their darkest moments. Now I spent my days waiting—for news, for danger, for something to happen. The inactivity was slowly driving me insane.
Rodion noticed, of course. He noticed everything.
"You're pacing again," he said from the doorway of the study, where I'd been walking the same circuit for the past twenty minutes.
"I'm thinking."
"You've been thinking for an hour. The carpet is starting to show wear patterns."
I stopped, forcing myself to stand still. "I need to do something. Something real. I can't just sit here and wait for the Petrovics to make their move while my life falls apart."
"Your life isn't falling apart."
"My practice is." The words came out sharper than I intended. "I've spent ten years building something, Rodion. Helping people. Making a difference. And now I'm just... here.Useless. While my patients wonder what happened to me and whether I'm ever coming back."
He crossed the room and took my hands, stilling their restless movement. "You're not useless."
"I feel useless."
He studied my face, his dark eyes searching. "What do you need? Tell me, and I'll make it happen."
"I need to work. Even if it's just a little. Even if it's not the same as before." I pulled one hand free to gesture at the room around us. "I know I can't go back to my office. I know I can't see patients in person. But there has to be something. Some way I can still do what I'm trained to do."
He was quiet for a moment, thinking. I could almost see the calculations running behind his eyes—security protocols, risk assessments, the logistics of what I was asking.
"Video sessions," he said finally. "Encrypted, untraceable. We could set up a secure connection, route it through multiple servers, so no one can track your location."
"Would that work?"
"Yegor would know better than me. But I don't see why not." He squeezed my hand. "It would have to be limited. A handful of patients, carefully vetted. Nothing that could lead back to you."
"I don't need to see everyone. Just the ones who really need me. The ones I was most worried about when I left." I felt something loosen in my chest—the first real hope I'd felt in days. "You'd really do that? Set all of that up?"
"I'd do a lot more than that to make you happy."
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight. I'd spent so long being self-sufficient, handling everything alone. Having someone offer to help—and mean it—was still foreign. Still uncomfortable in ways I couldn't quite articulate.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me yet. We still have to convince Kirill it's not a security risk."
"And if he says no?"
"Then I'll overrule him." Rodion smiled, a hint of his old charm breaking through. "It's my building. My wife. My decision."
Wife. The word still sent a strange flutter through my stomach every time he said it.
***
