Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Afterward, he stays. He pulls the sheet over us and tucks me in against his chest, holding me in place. His hand is back where it always goes. To our future. The wild, terrifying shape of it that I’m still trying to accept.
As his breath starts to change and his body begins to relax, I start to consider what life would be like with him. It’s a future I hadn’t once let myself imagine before this moment. I put my hand on my stomach and think about our little baby inside. In a few months, he or she will be here, demanding every second of my attention, and I realize that I already love them so much.
And I love the idea of being with Lev. Maybe I do love him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have this man caring for me, falling asleep next to me, raising our child.
That’s the thought that eventually lulls me into my own slumber.
20
LEV
Over the next few days, I don’t sleep much. My brain is wired tight. I spend the hours working and planning how best to protect Mari and our child. Now that I care this deeply about her, I won’t risk her safety for anything.
The first order of business is to move Mari to the compound. She can work from there. I still need her eyes on the books while I hunt the hand that’s been stealing from me. The city is too exposed. The compound is layered, patrolled, and quiet. She’ll be able to work and breathe. And I can do the same, knowing she’s safe.
At dawn, I call the grounds chief. I want new cameras installed on the ridge and thermal cameras on the tree line. We’ll need to replace the south fence runs with newer mesh, add a second gate on the service road, and set a crash bar thirty yards inside. I want two medics on rotation, one OB nurse on call, and a clinic room stocked by noon. I tell him to clear the guest wing closest to my room and gut it of anything unnecessary. She needs a good workstation with plenty of room.
I have the chef draft a simple menu and keep ginger, broth, fruit ice, crackers, and protein options on hand.
The second order of business is to monitor her daily movements until we go. I split her team into three cars and change the route every day. There can’t be any patterns to her movement. I take a page out of the Petrov playbook, having the drivers rotate. I also make plans for her detail to rotate on a regular schedule, with Thom as the point man.
Elevators are called before she steps into the lobby so she’s never waiting. I add a female guard to the inside team because she prefers that. I tell the guards to give her space unless there’s a hard signal. I don’t want her feeling caged.
I tell her about the move at breakfast. She’s at the table with tea and a notebook. Her laptop is open to a reconciliation she’s been building. I take the chair across from her so I’m not looming.
“We’re going to the compound,” I say. “You’ll work from there until I deem it safe.”
Her chin tips up, and I know she’s got an argument ready.
“When?” she asks.
“As soon as the rooms are ready. Tomorrow, if possible.”
She closes the notebook and looks at me for a long beat.
“I can work from the office. I have everything set up. I don’t want to be a prisoner in your country house.”
“You’re not a prisoner,” I remind her. “This isn’t a request.”
She exhales through her nose. “I have a team here. Files here. My routine here.”
“Your team can call you. Files can be mirrored. Routines can move.”
“Why now?” she asks.
“Because I’m not risking it,” I say. “Not with you. Not with the baby.”
She flinches at that and looks down at the tea.
“I want to keep working. I want to finish the pull on vendor shells. I want to sit with banks if I have to. I’m not sitting in a room while you fight every fire and tell me to be good.”
“You’ll work,” I say. “Nothing stops there.”
She lifts her eyes to mine. “You’re being unreasonable again,” she says. “I understand why my safety matters to you, I really do. But I’m here in your penthouse, I’m driven by your guards, I work at your company. What do you really think is going to go wrong?”
“Everything,” I warn. “Anything that could go wrong will go wrong. Isn’t that some kind of law of physics?”
She cocks her head and shoots me a sarcastic smile. “I’m not sure,” she quips. “I was too busy studying accounting.”
“Well, while you were studying accounting, I was watching people die. So I don’t see any of this as unreasonable.”