He looks like a man who always knows exactly where to look.
I picture him in his office, speaking rapid-fire Russian into his phone, directing someone halfway across the world to pull threads that unravel lives.
Mine included.
I suck in a breath. Hold it.
Release.
The marble floor blurs slightly beneath my feet.
My phone buzzes inside my bag.
I pull it out.
Max.
Just seeing his name makes something in my chest drop.
Come on, you can’t seriously be this pissed off?
I huff out a quiet laugh.
Oh, I was that pissed off.
The kind that ends things permanently.
The kind that burns bridges and salts the earth after.
I shove the phone back into my bag.
Max is the past.
Hospital bills are the present.
And this house?
This house feels like the future I didn’t plan for.
“Amalie.”
I nearly jump out of my skin.
Roman is just there.
Silent. Massive. Dangerous.
Like he materialized out of thin air.
I smooth my skirt, trying to look composed.
Failing.
“Yes?”
His green eyes drop to my fidgeting hands, then lift slowly back to my face, making my pulse stutter in a way that feels entirely unprofessional. "Come. You will meet my son now."
I cock my head to the side, buying a second to get my heartbeat under control. "You did the check already?"
