“There’s been an ambush,” he tells us gravely. “Three men are down.”
“That’s not possible,” I seethe. “We just changed that route two hours ago. Nobody could have known we were moving it tonight.”
“Someone did,” Nicolai responds, narrowing his eyes.
“I’m getting sick of this shit,” I growl. “We’ve got to flush this bastard out now, or he’s just going to get bolder.”
Nicolai and Petya both agree, and we spend another several hours redoing all of our earlier work.
By the time I return to the penthouse, it’s very late. Exhaustion presses against the backs of my eyes, though I try to push through it. I still have some security footage to go over and some reports to approve. All I want to do is sleep, but it’ll have to wait.
The apartment is so quiet, I almost forget about my guest. No, not my guest anymore. My fiancé. Soon she’ll be my wife. I go to her room to check on her, but I find it empty and her bed perfectly made. For a moment I nearly panic, thinking she’s somehow left. How could that be? I’ve received no security alerts.
Then I go to my own room and see her lying there, curled in the center of the bed, a book resting open against her chest like she fell asleep reading it. Like she was waiting for me to come home and simply couldn’t keep her eyes open for a second longer.
It’s sweet in a way that I don’t expect. No one’s ever waited up for me before. No one’s ever had the chance. Alina is the first woman I’ve ever allowed to inhabit my space when I’m not there. Seeing her like that pulls me in like a magnet. I don’t even think about it, I just slide into the bed next to her and turn off the lamp.
I don’t try to wake her, as much as I would love to. Instead, I just lie there, telling myself that a few minute delay won’t derail my plans for the night. I can still get all my work done, I just want to soak in this moment while I can.
A few minutes later, I hear her murmur something in her sleep. It sounds an awful lot like my name, though truthfully, it’s too unintelligible to even be called a word. Then her whole body turns into me, and she curls up against my chest. She’s so vulnerable and so trusting.
My arm wraps around her automatically and I hold her as she sleeps. I can’t lie to myself about this in the darkness of my own room. My marriage to her will be anything but fake. In fact, the only thing stronger than my feelings for her is my urge to crush anyone who dares to threaten her.
25
ALINA
Istare into the full-length mirror for a long time, taking in the sight. The dress isn’t what I imagined I would wear when I got married. In fact, somewhere across town, in a designer’s studio, is a half-finished dress that was meant for my wedding to Kostya.
I wonder if his mother canceled the order. The designer has probably already stripped it down for material. It makes me a little sad. Despite everything, I really did love that dress, even if it was a little more extravagant than anything I would have bought on my own.
Andrei hasn’t given me an exact date for the wedding yet, but I know it’s coming soon. Probably within the next two weeks. It’s better that way, because I’m going to be showing soon. I tell the salesgirl this as I try on a dress that’s slightly too big. She insists on bringing me a smaller one that’s more fitted to my body, but I tell her about the pregnancy.
I don’t even hesitate. I figure, who’s she going to tell? Her only job is to make this sale, and she can’t do that if I’m not satisfied with her attitude.
She’s so gracious, she doesn’t even comment on the bulky security guards who forced her to shut down the boutique for an hour so I could shop without interruption. I’m sure they paid her handsomely, but I can’t imagine that’s something she experiences every day. Still, she’s spent the last half hour smiling at me like this is normal.
None of it is, though. Instead of a legitimate, grand wedding to a man I thought I loved, I’m going to have a shotgun wedding with a man who knocked me up. Who doesn’t know he knocked me up.
Shit, this is all so complicated. The dress is fine. It’s pretty and elegant and won’t cause too much fuss. As long as this wedding happens in the next month. Apart from that, I don’t really care. I tell her I’ll take it and she leaves me alone to change back into my clothes.
I sigh as I stare at myself, half-naked in the mirror. I’m not showing yet, but I’ve definitely filled out a little. My boobs are bigger, for sure, and my face is a little chubbier than I’m used to. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who doesn’t stare at me as much as I stare at myself in the mirror.
How long can this marriage actually last before Andrei finds the people trying to murder him? It won’t be much longer before my body starts to change in ways I can’t hide. When that happens, I don’t know how we’ll handle it.
He can’t know. I can’t let him know that there’s a child growing inside of me. His world is far too dark and dangerous for something so precious and innocent. If this issue doesn’t get resolved quickly, I’ll have to figure out a way to disappear.
I dress and go back out the cash register to pay for the purchase. I smooth my hands over the fabric, trying not to imagine what it will feel like to stand beside him and pretend this is real. Pretend this isn’t just another temporary shelter before I disappear from his life forever.
There’s no version of the future where a man like Andrei Markov gets to keep a child he never chose and a woman like me. His world is too dangerous. Too violent. Too unforgiving. I won’t trap him in something he didn’t ask for, even if it breaks my heart to leave.
Tears burn suddenly behind my eyes, so fast I barely have time to swallow them down. I blink hard, trying to keep them at bay.
The saleswoman stares at me sympathetically.
I’ll have to start refusing him, picking fights, and acting distant. I’ll have to start pretending that I don’t want the only person who has made me feel safe in months.
The idea of pushing him away on purpose feels unbearable. What’s worse is that it will be the last thing he remembers of us. He’ll only remember the distance, and the coldness. I’ll have to spend our last precious moments together pretending that I don’t love him.
