Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“I’m glad to know you haven’t been kidnapped or trafficked,” Mia teases the second she answers.
“Good morning to you, too,” I say, already smiling. I step barefoot onto the warm stone path, letting my fingers brush against a bed of blooming hydrangeas as I walk. “You would not believe this place. It’s like something out of a fairytale.”
“Or Dracula’s castle?” she quips.
“I mean…” I trail off, taking in the riot of blooms surrounding me. The garden is like something out of a regency romance, almost timeless. There’s a wrought-iron gazebo tucked beside a koi pond, rows of manicured hedges framing elegant stone benches, and walking trails that snake off toward what looks like an orchard. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You should see this garden. It’s unreal.”
“Send pics,” she demands. “I need to hate you in full color.”
I laugh again. “It’s absolutely beautiful and peaceful." Honestly, this is exactly what I needed right now. It’s almost like a vacation.”
There is a pause on the other end before Mia says, more softly, “I’m glad you’re okay, Nic, and that you’re even enjoying it. Just remember, if he so much as breathes weird, I’m driving out there with my taser and a shovel.”
“I’ll send up the Bat Signal,” I joke.
Low voices carry on the breeze, followed by comfortable, friendly laughter. I slow, round a bend in the path, and spot six men in perfectly tailored suits. They stand in a loose circle near the far side of the garden, half hidden by a wall of roses.
They puff on cigars, oblivious to my presence. Something about them scratches at my brain—familiar yet foreign all at once. When one of them turns, recognition slams into me, and my breath catches.
It’s the man I saw outside the coffee shop after my night with Sergei. He looks so much like Sergei, only younger. Up close, it’s even more obvious. Even though he was with Sergei yesterday when we got Liliya settled, I was focused on my patient and paid him little mind.
Now, however, my brin brings him into sharp focus.
I stop, heart thudding as our eyes lock across the distance. He could be Sergei’s double. He has the same sharp jaw, the same ice-blue eyes, even the same dark hair. He has fewer grays and a livelier energy, though he can’t be much younger than Sergei. A permanent smirk curves his mouth, deepening as he approaches.
“I have to go,” I murmur into the phone.
Mia’s voice tightens. “What? What’s happening?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Nic—”
I end the call before she can finish, sliding the phone into my back pocket as the man reaches me.
He stops a few feet away, slipping his hands into the pockets of his perfectly cut slacks. His eyes skim over me—not leering, but assessing.
He offers a hand. “We didn’t get a proper introduction yesterday. I’m Sergei’s younger brother, Sasha. And my mom’s favorite son,” he adds with a wink. “She’s probably told you all about me.”
I shake his hand briefly, trying not to let him see how much he’s caught me off guard with his jovial greeting.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sasha,” I say sincerely. “Although I don’t remember Liliya saying anything about favorites. In fact, I seem to recall her saying she always wanted girls.”
“That sounds exactly right.” He laughs, deep and rich. “She keeps us humble, that’s for sure. She clearly likes you. Sergei said you were exactly what we needed.”
I nod again, unsure what to say to that. I don’t fail to notice his use of “we.” Not “she” as in his mother only. It all feels a little awkward. I have no idea what Sergei told him about me. About us. Does he know about our history? Or does he always talk to people with the same shit-eating grin?
The men laugh again, and I can’t help but look over at them. Sasha glances over his shoulder and smiles, this time more genuinely.
“They’re old family friends,” he says, preempting the question I haven’t asked. “We’re a close bunch. You’ll probably see them around a lot, but nothing to worry about.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I say, my voice low. “Family is important.”
“It’s everything,” he replies.
The gravity in his tone feels like a warning, as if he’s daring me to challenge his family. Desperate to change the subject, I open my mouth, but before I can speak a familiar voice slices through the air.
“There you are.”
I turn to see Sergei walking down the stone path, his eyes locked on Sasha first, then flicking to me. There is something unreadable in his expression, but his posture relaxes slightly when our eyes meet.
“I see you’ve met Sasha,” he says.
“I have,” I reply. “We were just talking about how important family is.”
Sergei’s mouth twitches at the corner, not quite a smile, but something close. “It is,” he answers simply.