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I felt lighter than I had in years, nothing could bother me.
Chapter 37
Ivan
I woke, snapped out of a light doze by the sensation of Emmy’s smooth leg sliding against mine. Fortunately, this time I didn’t try to beat the shit out of her.
While I felt closer to her than any other woman I’d ever known, it was going to take a while to get used to having her sleep beside me. But there was no way I would allow her to sleep anywhere else. I needed her near me. I rubbed a rough hand over my face, wondering how this was going to work when she went back to school, and I couldn’t keep my eye on her at all times.
I rolled over and slid my fingers over the soft skin of Emmy’s naked shoulder, comforted by touching her, reassuring myself that she was here and safe. I had shared so much with her last night, but I still had so much more I had to tell her.
Specifically, explaining that the man she thought was her father wasn’t and the man who was her father was a fucking nightmare about to bear down on us like a category five hurricane.
Even though I knew things were escalating with Armstrong, I wanted to give her a break after what had happened with Orlov, give her some peace.
After I told her about Elena, we ate and watched some sit-com on my barely used television. A mindless, relaxing activity that had Emmy dozing off. I eventually carried her in here and fell asleep next to her. I wanted to cocoon us in my apartment where no one could ever get to her, no one could threaten her safety, make her feel scared. I knew that was a fucking fantasy because the outside world didn’t stop just because you needed a break. God knew, Emmy deserved a break.
I got a text from Drago telling me that one of his men got a little aggressive and gave Orlov a concussion. Since none of us would be happy slitting his throat while he was knocked out cold, they had his ass on ice until he woke up.
It was just as well, because as I looked at Emmy again, I was unsure how I could have pulled myself away from her to go down to the warehouse and spill Orlov’s blood like I’d been craving since I found out he was after her. I certainly couldn’t take her with me.
I heard my phone chime again and tiredly reached for it, half-dreading what update Drago might have for me. I was almost relieved to see it was Mikhail. He sent me a message telling me he wanted an update on the Irina situation and to call him back immediately. I doubted he gave a fuck about Irina. He wanted to know why I didn’t finish the job he’d given me.
While every instinct I had urged me to ignore his message, I needed to deal with him and set him straight. There was no way I was going back to Moscow.
I slowly eased off the bed, not wanting to wake Emmy up, and slid my jeans on. Stepping toward the door, I was stunned at the resistance I felt to having her out of my sight. It was annoying and irrational. I knew no one was going to break in and disappear with her, but that didn’t stop the growing discomfort sitting in my gut as I moved away from the bed.
It was irrational as fuck, but I still ended up standing in the hallway with the bedroom door open so I could still see her while I made my call.
Still staring at Emmy, I quickly dialed Mikhail’s number. What the fuck time was in Russia?
“Ivan,” Mikhail answered.
“Hey,” I replied, unsure how I wanted to explain my failure to deal with Irina. The thought of explaining to Mikhail that I had to chase down a woman I cared about because I hurt her feelings and made her run away, which led to her being kidnapped by Orlov, made my skin crawl.
“I heard you ran into some problems retrieving Irina.”
“Yeah, about that. Orlov resurfaced. I had to take care of him. We finally took him out.” There. No need to reveal my relationship with Emmy.
Mikhail was silent for a moment. “Ivan, do you honestly think I don’t know about the female you’ve attached yourself to?”
My pulse jumped at his direct question. I glanced at Emmy’s slumbering form, knowing I should position myself further from the bedroom, but still unable to force myself away from her. Fuck.
“Attached is a strong word,” I said in a low voice, trying to keep my words quiet enough so Emmy wouldn’t hear me lying.
Mikhail snorted. “I have had someone keeping up with you ever since you started dodging my phone calls. I had to make sure you weren’t being disloyal.”
The implied accusation stung a bit, but it was an understandable instinct in Mikhail’s defense. When a soldier or any operative within the organization starts acting cagey or strange, you have to suspect something might be going on. And after all that bullshit with Yuri and the shit he was up to, I knew Mikhail kept a much closer eye on Chicago.
I started dodging his calls a while ago—exactly how long has he known about Emmy? “Believe me, your infatuation is the least troubling thing I could have discovered. And don’t you think it’s appropriate that I did learn of her, considering Drago’s plans for Thomas Armstrong.”
I sighed, hoping I could have avoided this conversation. As it stood, fucking Mikhail found out that Armstrong was Emmy’s father before Emmy did. Unfortunately, there was quite a growing list of people who knew before her. Fuck, knowing Mikhail, he might have known who Emmy’s father was before I did. Like a chess master, he was typically five moves ahead of everyone else.
“I was planning on talking to you about it. It’s been a busy couple of days and Armstrong just started making moves.”
“Taking out Armstrong isn’t going to be child’s play, Ivan. He has excellent security, is extremely careful, and moves around constantly. It will take a lot of people and coordination. Lucky for you, I have already put some things in motion. However, if we get rid of him, I expect to see you back in Moscow.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.