Page 36

36

ANASTASIA

T ick, tock, tick, tock .

The slow swing of the pendulum of the grandfather clock fills the air as I walk the near-abandoned hallways of the estate.

Everyone is gone.

I sent everyone away the day I got home from the hospital.

Those who remain are incredibly loyal to me, like Faina, but I’ve made it clear that I don’t want to see a single soul.

All of the guards, the kitchen staff, and even the gardeners have been let go.

The estate is completely locked down, and no one is allowed in or out.

The only time the gate opens is when Faina takes me to see Erik.

But even those trips are beginning to feel useless.

He’s been in a coma for a month now, with no sign of recovery.

I’m alone.

That night on the rooftop will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I continue to walk slowly through hallways void of life and light.

The hanging paintings have lost their luster, curtains haven’t been opened in weeks, and a layer of dust is beginning to cover everything.

Faina tries to keep on top of it, bless her soul, but I don’t have the heart to care.

Only one room remains filled with any kind of life, and it’s where I now spend ninety-nine percent of my time.

My office.

With a fireplace, several guns on standby, and some books to read to try and occupy my time, it’s the only place I spend my time.

I’d sleep there most nights if Faina didn’t interrupt and drag me to bed for the good of my baby.

The baby I nearly lost.

It’s been a month, and to this day, I can still feel the sharp pressure of that impacting knife, followed by the sickening, cold terror that Viktor had killed my baby.

For a few moments, he almost did, but thanks to the incredible doctors by my side, my child was unharmed.

The knife missed my child by mere millimeters, puncturing a minuscule hole in the amniotic sac that sealed itself rather quickly.

I had surgery to confirm that everything was fine, but no matter how often the doctor explained to me that small holes in the amniotic sac can heal by themselves, especially after things like fetal surgery, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with my baby.

Countless scans and tests all came back clear, though I insisted on multiple repeats until Faina asked if I was forcing such an issue to remain in the hospital close to Erik.

Maybe that was a part of it.

Reaching my office, I slowly open the door and slip inside.

Remaining by the door, I scan the room to make sure everything looks exactly as it was when I left, then I lock the door and move to the couch.

Easing myself down, I place one hand over my swollen belly and murmur softly in the back of my throat.

“Easy there.”

I haven’t felt my baby move since that day.

Doctors tell me it’s normal and warn me about my stress levels, but this is a worry I can’t shake.

Same as my worry about Erik.

What if he never wakes up?

Is this my punishment?

He saved my life by giving me his.

The thought causes tears to pool warmly at the back of my eyes, so I close them and try to focus on happier thoughts for the sake of my baby.

It’s impossible.

A month ago, I was high on the possibilities of the future and how to further ensure that my family became great.

Now, I have the Italians vying for my blood because Rocky was nearly killed at the gala.

The detective, Sarah, who burst in to arrest Viktor, is why he’s alive.

She found him bleeding out in the hallway and saved his life.

He’s called a few times, but I don’t take his calls.

I don’t need to hear how badly the Italians want my head.

The Cartel have gone silent.

I sent them the money to cover my father’s debt and it wasn’t sent back.

The last I heard, they’d crossed back over the border.

Closer to home, things are incredibly tense with Tatiana after Ivan was severely injured in the explosion.

She blames me, of course.

And I understand her.

She trusted me with business, and instead, I nearly got the love of her life killed.

Despite his death, Viktor has still managed to destroy everything I’ve built.

Hopelessness wells in my chest, and a soft sob slips past my lips.

I’m lost.

Even when things were terrible under my father, I still looked for a way out.

Now, I’m tired.

Caressing my baby does little to soothe me, and I cry quietly into my other hand until the lock clicks on the door and it slowly opens.

I tense and reach for the handgun on the side table, only for Faina to walk through the door with a tray of tea and some sandwiches.

“Do you really need to lock that door?” she says, nudging it shut behind herself.

“I have the keys, y’know.”

“You tell me that, and all I hear is that someone needs to steal those keys to get to me.”

Faina’s face falls, then her brows knit together with worry.

“Anastasia? What’s wrong?” She hurries closer and sets the tray down on the table, then sits beside me.

“Is it the baby?”

Shaking my head, I lower the gun back onto the table and dab at my eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I am. It’s just hormones.”

She clearly doesn’t believe me.

Sighing, Faina leans toward the tray.

“I made you tea. You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She shoots me a sharp look.

“Then eat for the baby. You’ve both been through hell and need all the energy you can get.”

I want to ask her what the point is.

How am I going to protect this baby when I couldn’t protect myself or the man I love?

The words don’t come so I accept the sandwich she presses into my hand and force myself to bite.

It tastes like cardboard, but I chew while she watches me like a hawk.

“Tatiana called again,” Faina says.

“I wish you would talk to her.”

My heart skips a beat.

“I can’t. I don’t want to hear the deal I worked so hard for go up in smoke.”

“Technically, if it’s already up in smoke, then the call won’t make a difference,” Faina replies.

“You know what I mean. If I don’t hear it, then it’s not real.”

“Anastasia.” She pours me tea from the ornate teapot and sets the cup down on a delicate saucer.

“I’m really worried about you. I understood at first, why you closed yourself off. What happened between you and Viktor was awful.” Her eyes dart down to my belly.

“But you’re continuing to shut yourself off from the world and I’m concerned. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I have you.”

She narrows her eyes at me.

“You barely let me in here as it is.”

“Who else is there?” I scoff, setting the half-eaten sandwich aside.

“Erik? He’s in a coma after falling all those floors and landing on the window cleaning lift. It’s a wonder he didn’t bounce and roll off like Viktor did or he’d be dead on the sidewalk miles below. Hell, at this point, it’s basically the same thing.”

“Anastasia—”

“Or the Italians?” I continue angrily, latching onto the one emotion that doesn’t cause me pain.

“They’re furious because Rocky nearly died, and quite right. He was helping me quietly, and it almost killed him. The Irish? They’re doing damage control for putting me in touch with Rocky in the first place. My own people? The ones who weren’t blown up at the gala are wary to trust me, and good for them! Look at the mess I’ve caused.”

Faina listens to my rant and then gently touches my knee.

“You’re accepting responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.”

“Well, who else is there to blame?” I yell.

“Viktor? He’s fucking dead. Erik, maybe, for letting it get this far? Well, he’s in a coma. He left me too, so that idea is in the ground.”

“You’re ignoring the good that came out of this. Everyone knows Viktor tried to kill you. The police also did their job perfectly, and everyone knows that his fingerprints were found on the weapon that killed your father. To anyone daring to look, it looks like he was so hungry for power and greed that he tried to frame you, and then he tried to kill you when his plan failed. This paints you in a good light, don’t you see?”

“And is it worth it?” I ask softly as the tears well again, blurring Faina’s worried face.

“If what you say is even a fraction of the truth, then is it even worth it? I love Erik and he… he’s in a coma. He’s so far away from me. My business is in shambles, my family name barely holds any weight, and I’m about to have a baby that I have no clue how to raise, never mind protect. So what does it matter what people think about Viktor?”

“Sweetie, you’re missing my point?—”

“Get out.”

“Anastasia.”

“Get out . I want to be alone.”

“I…” Faina clearly wants to say more, but she stops herself and stands.

“I understand you’re in pain, and I’m here for you. You’re not as alone as you feel.”

I turn away, gazing into the flames of the fireplace until my eyes burn.

The door clicks closed as Faina leaves and another wave of tears consumes me.

I’m scared.

Terrified.

The strength and boldness that have driven me for the past year died on that rooftop.

How can I raise a baby like this?

The plate slides off the edge of the couch, clattering on the floor and sending the sandwiches scattering across the floor, which makes me cry harder.

Faina is wrong.

I am completely alone.