Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
But here I am.
My hand rests on my baby bump. “Here we are.”
I bought a three-bedroom house in Pasadena. The neighborhood seems nice, and it’s even close to a park.
This is where I’ll raise little Alek.
I’m playing around with the idea of opening a bookstore because studying to be an editor is not an option right now. The bookstore will keep me busy until I have time to further my studies.
Letting out a sigh, I scowl at all the boxes again.
“Mommy doesn’t want to work,” I complain as I lie down on the couch. “We’ll just take a little nap, okay?”
Just as I close my eyes, there’s a knock at the front door. My eyes pop open, and I lie perfectly still.
It could be a neighbor.
There’s another knock, and my muscles tense.
Go away.
I lay frozen on the couch for over ten minutes, making sure whoever was at the door has left, before I slowly sit up.
Because of my time in Russia, I have crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with people.
And I always check the locks. Sometimes I’ll check again and again before my nerves settle.
It’s weird because it’s not like I was taken from my home. I’ve just become a nervous person after everything that’s happened.
Getting up, I slowly walk to the front door and peek through the peephole. Not seeing anyone, I check the locks on the door before letting out a breath of relief.
Unable to sleep now, I walk to the nearest box and open it.
Just like I used to whisper with Alek in the dark room, I whisper to our baby, “I wonder what colors you’ll like once you’re here. Should we make your room white and yellow? Your daddy’s favorite color is black, but that’s a little too morbid for a baby.”
I take all the family photos out of the box and arrange them around the living room.
“You would’ve loved your grandparents.”
I don’t have a photo of Alek.
My heart sinks when I realize little Alek will never know what his father looked like.
“Your father is the most amazing person. He’s strong and brave.” My voice cracks as heartache ripples over me. “No one will ever take his place, and you’ll never call another man Daddy.”
I’ll devote my life to raising Alek’s son and giving him a wonderful life.
Chapter 20
Alek
Standing in the field where Everleigh was killed, I look for any sign that she was here.
It’s stupid. A year has passed. Of course, there won’t be anything.
Still, I stare at the ground.
I’ve been locked up in my bedroom until now, and this is the first chance I’ve gotten to come to the field.
“Alek,” Misha calls from where he’s leaning against the SUV. “We have to go, or we’ll miss our flight.”
The past twelve months of living without Everleigh have been brutal hell. My father avoided me, but the few times we interacted always ended in violence.
I’ll never forgive him. I’ll never forget.
And one day, when he least expects it, I’ll kill him the way he killed Everleigh.
“Alek,” Misha calls again.
We’ve been out here for over an hour. Misha’s been patient with me.
Honestly, only Misha and Tiana have tried to understand what I’m going through.
Once I got home, Mama fell into a deep depression. The loss of Vincent almost killed her.
She lost her son, and I lost my brother and the only woman I’ll ever love. I’ll never connect with another human the way I connected with Everleigh.
“I love you,” I whisper to the ground. “Forever and always. It will never be the end of us, moya malen'kaya lyubov'. My time on this godforsaken planet will end, and we’ll be together again.”
I close my eyes, and the image of Everleigh sitting on my lap fills my mind.
‘I love you too.’
Lifting my hand, I grip the fabric over my broken heart. “It’s torture living without you.”
Misha’s arm wraps around my shoulders, and he gives me a sideways brotherly hug. “Come, brother.”
If it weren’t for Misha, I probably would’ve ended my life. The past year he’s gone through hell with me, and out of respect for him, I face every brutal day.
Turning away from the last place I saw Everleigh, I walk to the SUV and climb into the passenger seat.
When Misha slides behind the steering wheel, he says, “I’m looking forward to our training at St. Monarch’s, and we’ll see more of Armani.”
Armani is an enforcer for the Italian mafia. We’ve worked with him in the past and built a friendship.
“I don’t want anyone at St. Monarch’s to know about my past or Everleigh,” I mutter.
“Okay.”
Honestly, I’m only going because that’s where Misha will be.
“Don’t baby me either,” I add.
“Okay.”
Mama tried to get me to take medication, but it drained me of my energy. Instead, Misha guards me, always there to calm me down when I lose my shit.