Page 139 of Beneath the Light of the Moon

* * *

“I HEARD MR. Alek Romanov is interested in our store,” her father, Khalid, informed before planting a soft kiss on her mother’s cheek.

She huffed, her head tilting toward him to receive his affection. “Oh, and what is it he’s interested in?” Excitement lined her words, Anika’s sharp ears picking up on it even as she pretended to be engrossed in her homework. Her parents talked more that way.

“Nothing that I believe in.”

Ira smacked her husband’s arm as he strode past, making his way to Anika. “How pessimistic of you, at least tell me you listened to what he had to say?”

“I would’ve if it had been him who’d come to talk to me,” her father called over his shoulder before mumbling a, “good evening, my dear,” into the hair atop Anika’s head. She smiled up at him in response before turning her attention back to her studies.

“What do you mean?” her mother questioned, hands busy with the last remaining steps of dinner prep.

Setting his items down on the table, he returned to his wife, his tone lowering. “Imean,he’s interested, but not enough to come talk to me in person himself. He sent some”—her father’s hand flourished in the air—“new guy instead.”

“Well, still, that’s not a bad sign, right?”

Anika pressed her lips together. Her mom always had a way of seeing the good in others, even if they were rotten to the core. It was what made her into the woman she was today, but it also made Anika and her father roll their eyes. While she was the kind-hearted giver of the family, Anika andher father kept people at arm’s length until they passed a series of…tests. It wasn’t anything personal, just a logical approach when it came to making acquaintances.

It was what made her father so successful in his business—he only trusted those who’d won it over. Anika saw the way people respected her father and wanted that for herself. Besides, there had been many times she’d overheard her parent’s speaking in hushed tones, her mother’s kindness always resulting in her feelings getting hurt.

“I didn’t say it was a bad sign, just that we shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

* * *

THE SECOND TIME she awoke, her head felt slightly better, but ached nonetheless. She tried to open her eyes again, anxiety rushing through her blood at the idea of her vulnerability, but nothing. Even though her mind was awake, the rest of her body wasn’t. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move a single extremity.

But she did notice another subtle difference.

This time, there was no car humming beneath her, only a steady warmth surrounding her and a hint of a man’s cologne.

Levi?

Again, Anika tried to remember the last moments of her evening with him, but nothing came to the surface of her mind other than the last drink she’d poured for him. Sleepiness pulled at her restless mind, slowly chipping away at her resolve.

Or maybe it was the pleasant feel of strong arms around her.

She was being carried, a fact that should worry her, but after all this time, it felt good. She’d fought off the scum of the earth for long enough—denied herself happiness.

One little moment wouldn’thurt…

Even the wounds afflicting her previously were now muffled as if she was wrapped in cotton. Drowsiness took hold of her. It erased the caution usually living within her heart. Now, all she cared about was sleep and how it relentlessly called her name.

Anika,it crooned,give in to me.

So, she succumbed.

* * *

DESPITE HER FATHER’S reservations, Mr. Romanov had been persistent.

Anika had accompanied her father to the store, content to be in his presence while he restocked items during a slow period of the day. All had been quiet, the two of them chattering—Anika perched on empty crates while her father knelt nearby—about nonsense until it was interrupted.

The bell above the doordingedcheerily.

“Wait here, dear,” her father said with a grunt as he pushed himself back up. He walked toward the front of the store to help whatever customer awaited while Anika stayed put. For now.

Shortly after, she heard his voice drifting through the shelves, but the words were indiscernible from this distance. It lasted for longer than she expected, the words fast and jovial. Mostly. Although something about the reserved tone in her dad’s voice had her soundlessly slipping from the crates.