Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
“Careful,” I request when Mrs. Ivanov bounds off the bench like she has somewhere important to be. She may, but she’ll end up back as my patient if she doesn’t slow down.
When I say that to her, she blows a raspberry that doesn’t match her style or sophistication. “You could never be so unlucky.”
My heart melts when she wraps me up in a motherly hug like she’s known me for years. Or perhaps she knows it’s been years since I’ve been engulfed by a warmth only a mother can offer. I haven’t experienced my mother’s hugs in over eight years, and the last one we shared was as cold and unloving as the ground she was buried in only an hour later.
After thawing sections of my heart that froze when I lost both my parents within days of each other, Mrs. Ivanov caresses her son in the same manner. I don’t know what she whispers in his ear, but his eyes flick to me numerous times, and he awards her the occasional nod.
Mrs. Ivanov’s perfume whips up around me when she glides past me before slipping into the back of the SUV, passing a large black man holding open the door for her.
“Trust your instincts.” I realize her request may not be solely for me when she adds, “They brought us back here for a reason, but they may not be all bad.”
After waiting for Maksim to nod, she signals for the driver to go, leaving Maksim butting shoulders with me on the footpath.
My surprise is so high it takes her SUV melding into the peak-hour traffic before my mouth will articulate anything. “Are you not going with her?”
“Eventually.”
I feel Maksim’s eyes on me for several long seconds before I build the courage to stop watching snow flurries fall around us and twist to face him.
He smirks as if he appreciates my strength. He shouldn’t. My insides are in so much turmoil it is like the grade three dance recital all over again. I’m seconds from vomiting on my shoes.
“I have some matters I need to take care of here first.”
“Here?” I don’t give him the chance to reply. “I didn’t realize your family’s real estate portfolio extended this far inland.”
I cringe at my inability to think on the spot. My reply disclosed my research didn’t end when I unearthed his mother’s medical history. I delved into their private affairs as well.
It didn’t disclose much, only that the Ivanov name is attached to numerous development applications and structures across the globe.
After staring long enough for the snow to melt, Maksim says, “It hadn’t previously.” A ghost of a smile creeps onto his mouth, and it does wild things to my insides. They’re definitely good jitters because they’re the same ones that fluttered in my stomach when I walked in on him in the shower. “This is a new venture I recently unearthed an interest in.”
“Cool.”
Who the hell says “cool” anymore, Nikita?
“I hope it goes well for you.”
He takes a moment to authenticate the sincerity in my tone before he dips his chin in gratitude.
Tension thickens the air with humidity, but before it can stick to my skin, Maksim glances over my shoulder. I miss who has caught his attention since they dart through foot traffic like they’re attempting to outrun the Grim Reaper, but Maksim seems eager to catch up with them.
He mumbles a quick goodbye before he takes off after them, leaving me confused and devastated on the footpath.
CHAPTER SIX
“I’m on my way now.” A valid excuse drowns out Zoya’s shocked huff. “A patient came in with severe stomach cramps, and there was a rostering issue with the student doctors.” I hustle past a patient wheeling his IV stand outside so he can get his daily hit of nicotine. “And then I called Gigi to make sure everything was okay. You know how much she loves to chat.” I barely stop to suck in a much-needed breath. “I’ll still be there in plenty of time, and I checked in online, so I can go straight to security.”
“Okay.”
Her calm response is shocking.
She is usually more vocal when stressed.
“Is she there?” I don’t need to say her mother’s name for her to know who I am referencing. My high pitch announces my worry without additional words needed.
I breathe a little easier when she replies, “No. It’s just—”
She’s interrupted by my cell phone sounding a long, annoying beep.
“Shit. I forgot to charge my phone.” When I’m not riled about how even my cell is forced to operate with minimal recharges, I say, “Zoya…? Z…?”
I pull my phone from my ear and cuss when I notice it has begun its shutdown.
After storing it in my pocket, I sprint through the revolving door of Myasnikov Private Hospital. My speed is so brutal a woman is flung into the hospital foyer so forcefully she almost stumbles.