Page 19

19

ERIK

“ D rink.” Faina strides across the dressing room and presses a glass of something pink and bubbly into my hands.

“I’m not entirely sure this is my ideal drink,” I reply, tilting the glass slightly.

“It’s part of the experience,” Faina remarks.

“So drink it. It’ll help her relax.”

“Anastasia will relax if she sees me drinking pink champagne?”

“Men,” Faina mutters, striding away with her own glass in hand.

“Playing into this whole day will help her relax. We’re trying to take her mind off everything, remember?”

I remember.

The gala is a little under a month away, so to try and give Anastasia some breathing room, Faina has brought her dress shopping.

I have no complaints about having to sit through the countless gorgeous gowns that Anastasia appears in because each one makes her look like royalty, and there’s a special sparkle in her eyes each time she admires herself in the mirror.

She just hasn’t found the perfect one yet.

I set my drink down.

Alcohol while I’m working is hardly advised, and being out in town puts us at risk.

Things might be quiet on the assassination front, but I’m taking no risks this close to the gala.

Between keeping the smaller families happy with the shift in business, accepting the first flood of cash from construction, and keeping the Cartel off our backs, it’s been a tough few weeks.

Anastasia needs this.

I need this.

I need to see her happy since everything in my power so far has been unable to help.

On one hand, I’m just her bodyguard and security can only do so much.

Protecting her from the Cartel is easy, but things are still tense with Viktor and the Cartel has threatened to start slaughtering the smaller families if they don’t get what they want.

A war is not something we will survive right now, so appeasement is all we have.

And if a day of dress shopping is what we need to perk Anastasia up, then I am all here for it.

The deep blue curtains part once more and Anastasia steps out of the changing room in a floor-length golden yellow gown that hugs every single gorgeous curve of her body.

The heart-shaped neckline amplifies her bust, and as she steps onto the stage and turns, the dress is backless with some beading sparkling along the hem above her ass.

“What do you think?” Anastasia asks, looking at Faina as she walks around her.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

She’s utterly stunning in every dress and I can’t pick a favorite.

She could wear a trash bag, for all I care.

I think I’m falling in love with her because she looks like she’s glowing, and that has to be me.

She makes me laugh without trying.

She listens to me beyond just appeasing me, and the way she makes my heart flutter every time our eyes meet is unlike anything I’ve felt before.

And the sex?

Slow and sensual has never been so amazing.

I should have better control.

Viktor would kill me if he found out.

But as she turns to face me and gives me a nervous smile while smoothing her hands down the bodice of the dress, I know it’s the truth.

“I love the detail,” Faina says.

“Do they have this in anything that’s not yellow? With your hair, the colors might blend too much, and we want you to stand out.”

“Blue,” I say as Anastasia’s eyes lock onto mine.

“If they have that dress in blue, you would kill everyone with one glance.”

“Blue,” she repeats softly.

“Oh, yes.” Faina nods quickly.

“A cornflower or sky blue would be amazing. Let me go check!”

As Faina hurries away to find someone who works here, I’m left alone with Anastasia and the moment presents itself in a way that I could give her a thousand compliments.

If only my phone didn’t ring at that exact moment.

Viktor.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” I flash her an apologetic smile and stand, then hurry out of the room and step through one of the glass doors so I can talk while keeping an eye on her.

“Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Anastasia for twenty minutes and she hasn’t picked up. Now I’m having to call you just to find out where she is.”

“Didn’t you read the note I left? We’re shopping.”

“Shopping?” Viktor nearly chokes on the word.

“At a time like this?”

“What’s the issue?” I hiss.

“The gala is a month away and we’re working toward solving everything, right? So she’s going to need a dress unless you want everyone in New York to hear that the Remizova gala crashed and burned because the guest of honor turned up in jeans?”

“If she even gets that far,” Viktor mutters.

Of course.

He’s so convinced of her guilt that he’s certain she’ll be dead or arrested before gala night.

“Viktor, you need to start looking at things more clearly. Every day we waste on this pursuit is another day the real killer gets away from us and is free to target someone else. And that includes you.”

“Why are you so sure she’s innocent?” he spits.

“Why are you so sure she’s guilty?” I snap right back.

“You never told me how these suspicions started. You just asked me to trust you and I did. But I’ve been around her. I’ve been involved in her day to day for months now. I know her, and I’m telling you that you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“A great pair of tits is all it takes to turn your head, huh?” Viktor snarls.

“Do I mean nothing to you? Have I not slaved away to provide for you and support you through all your endeavors in life? You wouldn’t even be in this position if it weren’t for me.”

My grip on the door handle grows painful.

“Viktor, I am always grateful for everything you have done for me, and this doesn’t change anything. I know you miss Sergey and I understand your desire for revenge. It’s a desire I support, trust me. Someone killed our Pakhan and has been trying to kill our Godmother. I am right there with you on all of that, but this time, I need you to trust me.”

The curtains part once more and Anastasia appears in the same dress, but this time, it’s a gorgeous light blue.

“Anastasia is not your killer.”

“Bullshit.”

“Then tell me what you know!” I hiss, fighting to keep my voice low.

“Tell me why you’re so convinced because if you don’t… I’m done.”

“What?”

“I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not investigating her, I’m not spying. I’m done with it. It’s a waste of time and has been from the start.”

“Sergey was a great man,” Viktor says, his voice changing to become ice cold.

“You should watch your mouth, boy. The only reason it’s still moving is because of my good graces.”

“I respected him. I respect you,” I reply.

“And I understand what a painful blow it was for you on a personal level. But Viktor, you’re placing blame on the wrong person and I’m not helping you with these delusions anymore. Your anger would be better directed at the Cartel?—”

The line beeps and falls silent.

He hung up on me.

Sighing deeply, I run my hand through my hair and press my fingertips firmly against my skull to try and ease the tension building in my head.

This is the right choice.

All this time chasing after ghosts because Viktor needed someone to blame.

Meanwhile, the real killer has been fleeing for months.

Shaking my head, I head back into the room just as Faina helps Anastasia down from the stage.

“Well?” She smiles briefly at me, her usual soft flicker as if she’s scared of giving anyone a full smile.

“In blue?”

“Much better,” I reply, giving her the strong smile she lacks.

“You look beautiful.”

“Indeed,” comes an unknown voice.

I spin on my heel, placing one hand back against Anastasia as my other removes my weapon from my hip holster.

We’re joined by a woman dressed in a pencil skirt and a fluffy peach blouse.

She walked through the door I just came through, and I kick myself for not looking over my shoulder before I came back in.

Her sharp eyes drop to my raised handgun and she smiles.

“You won’t be needing that,” she says.

“I’m here to make a deal.”