46. Natalia

46

NATALIA

"Nice, huh?" Leonty asks.

I take in the sunlight filtering in through the bay windows and the view of the property. "It's great," I agree. "But I still don't know why you brought me here."

Leonty's looking down at the garden as he replies, "Because your baby is gonna need a nursery."

This room would be perfect for a nursery—but that also means I would have to move into the main house at some point, too. Loathe as I am to admit it, I've become attached to the pool house.

It's a convenient loophole to keep from having to admit that Andrey and I live together.

We're under two separate roofs. We're neighbors more than anything.

But if my baby is going to be in a nursery in the big house, where does that leave me? Where does that leave us ?

"Maybe we could add an extension onto the pool house?" I suggest. "Create a little nook for the baby?"

Leonty purses his lips. "Let me know how that conversation flies with the head honcho."

"Wuss."

"I don't see you rushing off to bring up the idea to him. You're just leaving it to me. Coward."

I chuckle. Takes one to know one, I guess.

Ever since my suspension from work and subsequent, suspiciously quick, reinstatement, I've wanted to ask Andrey what part he had to play in all of it. Because he must have done something.

Mr. Ewes reversed his decision in under twenty-four hours, and I not only escaped an HR review, but earned a raise.

Also, where in the hell did Byron go? I mean, the man disappeared without so much as a goodbye party in the breakroom. The only explanation I got was the same one as the rest of Sunshield: Mr. Wells has decided to hand in his resignation and pursue alternative career prospects.

Nobody bought that.

Least of all me.

Not after Andrey had basically assured me that he would "take care of everything." I could just ask Andrey, but truth be told, I'm terrified of what he might say.

"Andrey is busy, okay?" I say. "I don't want to bother him."

"Since when?"

Glowering, I join him at the windows. "Since he might have killed my boss for sexually harassing me."

Leonty's smile withers. "Would you just let it go already? You've got a good thing going here, Nat. Just enjoy it."

God, how I wish I could. "Do you think he killed him?"

Leonty shrugs, which, let me tell you, is not comforting at all. "Personally, I don't think you should be wasting your time worrying about that asshole. He's not in your life anymore. End of story. What you should be focused on is getting this room ready for the little princess."

He tries to pat my stomach, but I swat him away. "Don't patronize me."

Chuckling, he makes for the door. "I was told to let you know that this room is yours to design. So let your imagination run wild."

Then he disappears.

"Idiot," I mutter, turning back to the windows.

I left Remi with Misha in the gardens earlier, but I don't see any sign of them right now.

Almost as though I've conjured them out of thin air, I hear Remi's bark. A few moments later, the dog skitters into the room with Misha just behind him. They both slip and slide on the polished hardwood floors, laughing hysterically.

Misha sobers and dips his head as soon as he sees me, his hands folded behind his back. "Leonty said you were up here." He still walks into every room like he might be thrown out of it by the scruff. Another symptom of his rough childhood, I'm sure.

Though he's been tight-lipped about the details so far. I spent hours trying to wheedle some information out of him. In the end, it was Mila that made me realize that I was beating a dead horse.

" He's not ready to talk about his past yet. Instead of forcing the topic, just give him the space to trust you. One day, when he is ready to talk, he'll know he can come to you."

It was good advice. As soon as I stopped pushing him for information about himself, he relaxed around me. Sometimes, he even seeks me out.

"This is going to be the baby's nursery. What do you think?"

Remi explores the room in large, frantic circles, sniffing every nook and cranny. Misha, on the other hand, takes his time. He looks around with those watchful eyes, turning on the spot as though he's scared to take up space.

"What do you think?" he lobs back at me.

"I asked ya first."

His smile is shy. "It's… nice."

"What if we painted the walls a nice bright yellow?" I wonder out loud. "Or maybe wallpaper on one side with a forest motif? And then do this wall in green?"

Misha looks utterly lost. "Um… yeah. Whatever you like."

Remi butts his head against the back of Misha's legs. He drops to his knees to pet the needy dog. I can't help but smile at the two of them. It's amazing how far they've come. Just goes to show what you can achieve with a little love.

I gesture for Misha to join me at the window seat. He sits on the far end of the cushion while Remi resumes his circling inspections.

"Will you help me paint?" I ask.

At that, the boy's eyes snap to mine. "You want me to help?"

"Of course."

His face flushes and he looks down quickly. "I… I don't know how much longer I'll be around, though." His furrowed forehead suggests that he's been worrying about this for some time now.

"Is there somewhere you need to be, Misha?" I ask. "A home you want to go back to? A family who might be waiting for you…?"

He refuses to look at me. "No one's looking for me."

My heart splinters. But then again, I already knew that. It's been months and no one has come knocking.

"If there's someone you want to find," I say softly, "I could help you locate?—"

"No!"

I pull back, startled by the fierceness in his voice and the sudden pallor in his skin.

"Sorry, it's just… I don't want to be found." He sighs. "If they know I'm alive, they'll know I failed. And they told me that if I failed, either Andrey would kill me or they would."

"But Andrey hasn't killed you," I remind him. "And he's not going to, either."

Misha squirms uncomfortably. "I know. I was wrong about him."

"Misha, is there any place you have left to go?"

He shakes his head and I detect the fear in his eyes at the mere suggestion. Slowly, the same way I coach strangers to approach Remi, I reach out and touch Misha's leg. He flinches, but doesn't shove me away.

"Well, then I'm the lucky one," I declare. "Because that means I get to enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Misha blinks at me like the idea is absurd. Like no one has ever said anything so nice to him.

Which cracks my heart a little more.

"Do you want to stay here with?—?"

"I like staying here," Misha says before I can finish asking the question. "I like being around you."

I smile and squeeze his knee. "You're safe here, Misha. You know that, right?"

He nods, his smile withering. "But Andrey won't want me here forever."

Determination surges through my bones. I'm no longer interested in avoiding a hard conversation with Andrey. Not when Misha's peace of mind hangs in the balance.

"Don't you worry about Andrey," I assure him. "Leave him to me."