But the quiet between us has changed.
When Pavel calls with an update about the operation, Menlow takes it in his office with the door closed. I don’t ask questions. I’m not sure I want to know the answers.
The next morning, I’m making coffee when Menlow walks into the kitchen looking like he hasn’t slept.
“How did it go?” I ask, handing him a mug.
“It’s done. We caught Oleg at the storage facility, just like you said. Yuri flipped on him in exchange for protection.” He takes a sip of coffee without really tasting it. “The Volkovs won’t be a problem anymore.”
“That’s good news.”
“It is.”
He doesn’t sound happy about it.
“Menlow, what’s wrong?”
He sets down his mug and turns to face me. “I need you to pack your things.”
The words don’t register at first. “What?”
“Your things. You should pack them.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. It doesn’t come.
“I don’t understand. Pack my things and go where?”
“I’ve set up an apartment for you. It’s in a good neighborhood. Safe. Close to your old office, if you want to go back there, or there’s a position waiting for you at McQueery & Associates downtown. The salary is better than what you were making before. But I’ve also set up a new bank account for you that’s padded well enough you shouldn’t have to work ever again, if you don’t want to.”
My stomach drops. “You’re kicking me out.”
“That’s not—”
“The threat is gone,” I interrupt, and I’m proud of how steady my voice sounds even as something cracks inside me. “The Volkovs are handled. So you don’t need me here anymore. Is that it?”
Menlow frowns. “Kirsten—”
“No, it’s fine. I get it.” I set my own mug down before I drop it. My hands are shaking. “You married me for protection. The protection is no longer needed. Therefore, the marriage is no longer needed. Simple math.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.” I turn away so he won’t see my face when a single tear tracks down my cheek. “I’ll start packing.”
“Kirsten, wait—”
“You’ve set up everything, you said. New apartment. New job. New accounts.” I laugh, but it sounds wrong. Hollow. “Very thorough. You’ve thought of everything.”
“I wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of.”
“Taken care of,” I repeat the words like they’re in a foreign language. “Right. Of course. Because that’s what this has all been about, hasn’t it? Taking care of me. Managing me. Making sure I stay exactly where you put me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I finally turn to face him, and I can see the confusion on his face. He genuinely doesn’t understand why I’m upset. That almost makes it worse. “You forced me into this marriage to protect me. Fine. I accepted that. But now you’re forcing me out after everything, and I’m just supposed to accept that, too?”
“I’m not forcing you out. I’m giving you a choice.”
“A choice.” I shake my head. “Go live in the apartment you picked. Work at the job you arranged. Spend money from the accounts you set up. That’s not a choice, Menlow. That’s just a different cage.”
