Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Yet every night, the empty bed eats at me. The sheets feel cold. The room feels too large. I lie awake staring at the ceiling while anger, frustration, and longing pull me apart.
She’s just a few doors down, sleeping soundly in a room that isn’t mine. It’s driving me nuts.
Every instinct in me says to go to her, pull her into my arms, tell her she’s going to stay with me whether she likes it or not.
But I don’t.
I’m the one who created the walls between us. I’m the one who tightened the leash so much that she had no choice but to pull away. I know this, but knowing doesn’t change anything. Pride can be a miserable thing.
I hear her at night sometimes, walking to the kitchen for water, the soft pad of her feet on the floor. Once, when the baby made her queasy, I heard her quietly retching in the guest bathroom.
I stood in my doorway, torn between rushing to her and staying out of sight so I didn’t push her further away. Eventually, I forced myself back to bed.
I’m trying. God knows I’m trying. But I don’t know how to fit into this new version of myself. The one who wants to keep her safe without smothering her, the one who wants her to trust me while I refuse to trust anything around her.
A few days into our strained new routine, there’s a knock on my office door. Before I can answer, Davýd pushes inside holding a small brown envelope.
“Shipment number nine came in,” he says. “Except half the crates got rerouted somewhere between the docks and the warehouse.”
My temper spikes immediately.
“Stolen?” I ask.
“Looks like it.” He grimaces.
“Lebedev?”
“That’s my guess.”
I clench my fists. The timing couldn’t be worse. With Molly under my roof and my attention split, enemies are testing boundaries I normally guard like the jaws of a steel trap.
I take the envelope and scan the list of what’s missing. Weapons and cash, plus a few deliveries that were signed for under a falsified name.
“This is deliberate,” I mutter.
“Obviously,” Davýd says, dropping into one of the leather chairs. “They’re poking the Wolf to see what happens.”
“What happens,” I growl, “is I tear their organization apart.”
He smirks at that. “Ah. There’s the man I know.”
Before I can respond, the office door swings open again and Molly pokes her head inside. Davýd watches her curiously, as he’s usually the only one allowed to come into my office without knocking.
Her hair’s in a loose ponytail, she’s wearing leggings, one of my shirts tied at the waist. She looks like she’s trying to give us privacy, standing in the doorway instead of stepping in.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Davýd’s eyebrows go up. “You must be Molly.”
She nods, looking a little afraid.
“This is Davýd,” I say casually, though all three of us feel how weird this is.
He laughs at this.
“The one and only,” he says, bowing to her with a flourish.
“How does it feel living with the Devil himself?” Davýd jokes, jerking a thumb at me.
Molly laughs as she looks between us, the sound small, polite, a little forced. I don’t like the sound of it. I realize there’s so much I haven’t told her, so much that I owe her, but now isn’t the time.
My chest tightens. I grip the edge of my desk, trying to keep my face neutral. Davýd seems to notice. His smirk widens, amused and knowing, like he’s enjoying my discomfort.
Molly’s gaze flicks between us. “I was just going to make lunch. If either of you wants some.”
This is out of character for her, and I realize she’s trying. Despite the frostiness that’s risen between us the last few days, she wants there to be peace. This small gesture is her olive branch.
“No, thank you,” Davýd says kindly. “I actually have to get my daughter from school.”
I don’t miss the small look of sadness that flashes over her face at his words. I know she misses teaching, but I just can’t risk it. We both decided it would be best for her to step away for a while. Still, I wish there was something I could do to wipe away that sadness.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell her, shooting her a reassuring smile.
She nods before slipping out the door. When she’s gone, the air feels thinner somehow.
Davýd leans back in the chair, crossing one ankle over his knee. “You look like a man who’s stepped in his own trap.”
“Shut up.”
“You like her.” He snorts.
“I’m protecting her,” I remind him. “Her life is in danger.”
“And since when do you protect young women in your own home? This is me, Samuil.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to tell him the truth. So I do.
“She’s pregnant,” I say.
Davýd stills for a moment, then hums thoughtfully.