68. Andrey

68

ANDREY

I find her sitting under the shade of the trees by the pool house. I steal a few minutes to watch her unnoticed—the way her hair ripples softly in the wind. The way she plays with her pendant absentmindedly, watching every tree and blade of grass and bird as though she's trying to commit it all to memory.

I'm not surprised, then, when she finds me watching her.

Nor when the sad lines of her face rearrange into a weak smile that she can't hold. By the time I make it over to her and sit down, she's frowning in thought again.

I want to reach out and smooth the line between her brows, but I'm careful to leave plenty of space between us. It doesn't do a damn thing to dim the urge to touch her.

I shove that urge down and lock it up tightly, though.

Because if I touch her… I might never let go.

"All bandaged up?" Her voice is light, casual. If I didn't know what she was planning, I might overlook the way her breath hitches.

I raise my shirt to display my bandages. "Like I said, just a little scrape."

"We have very different opinions about what constitutes a ‘little scrape.'"

I lower my shirt. "You don't have to worry about me, Natalia. I can take care of myself."

"So can I, you know?" Her eyes meet mine for a moment before she tears them away again. "I know that hasn't always been the case, but?—"

"You're stronger than you look. Yes, I know." This time, she does smile. The sadness doesn't quite leave her eyes, though. "How was the doctor's appointment?"

"It went well. The baby is fine." She gazes out towards the house. "What are you going to do, Andrey? Now that your father's back, I mean."

"The only thing I can do: fight."

She nods as though she expected the answer. "You have Nikolai to deal with, too."

"I'll have to deal with Slavik first."

Much as it pains me to admit, I need to make sure my own house is secure before I deal with Nikolai. I won't be able to defeat him if Slavik is trying to undermine me at every turn.

"Nikolai told me… He said that you ratted out his parents to the FBI and went back on the truce you'd negotiated with them?"

"That was Slavik."

She nods sadly. "That's what I told him. I knew you'd never go back on your word. But he seemed to think that you were the one who had everything to gain."

"That's how it looked to me, too. For months after Slavik left, I wondered why he would do all of that and then leave the Bratva to me. Still, I was foolish enough to believe that I'd never see him again. I should have known that my father never does anything without insurance."

Her eyebrows knit together. "You think he always meant to come back?"

"I think he wanted to make provisions for a return in case it didn't work out in Russia."

"So… he didn't leave for the quiet life then?"

I snort. "He doesn't know the fucking meaning of ‘the quiet life.' Slavik thought he could shore up power in Russia. He tried hard for years, as far as my intel suggested. But it's a different world over there. He was a small fish in a very large pond."

"I bet his ego couldn't take that."

I smile darkly. "No. Didn't dim his light too much, though. He's confident that my men will defect to him when he declares his intentions."

Her eyes widen with alarm. "Is that likely?"

"I'm sure a few will." I drag a hand through my hair. "There's nothing I can do about that."

"But that means you're vulnerable. That means there are people you trust who could betray you."

Unable to stop myself, I turn to her, cupping her face and drawing her eyes to mine. "Like I said, lastochka , don't you worry about me."

She flinches out of my reach and laces her fingers together. "Misha wants to be a part of the Bratva," she says, the words leaving her lips reluctantly.

I sigh and my hand falls limply to my lap. It burns and tingles from the little contact. "I'm aware."

"You'll train him?"

"When he's ready."

"He's not just a soldier, Andrey. He's not just another pawn to be sacrificed. He's?—"

"I know, little bird. He will choose his own path. And he will have a home and a family here if that's what he wants."

We're both skirting dangerously close to the secret we're both trying to hide from each other. There's a tangible goodbye in the air, a sense of finality that wavers unwillingly between us.

"I'm sorry for not showing up for you, Natalia," I tell her suddenly.

"You already apologized for that."

"It wasn't nearly enough. I told you I would protect you, and when you needed me most, I wasn't there."

"You have a Bratva to lead," she offers. "You have hundreds of men fighting for you. I know I can't always be the priority."

It tears me apart to hear her say that. Because the truth is, she should be the priority. Every fucking time. The fact that she thinks otherwise is on me.

But considering our circumstances, that reality is no longer an option.

I have to push her away in order to protect her.

She has to leave me behind in order to protect our child.

I grit my teeth and force the lie out. "I have to focus all my efforts on Slavik and Viktor now. That means I won't be around very much."

She looks like she's battling tears but when she looks at me, her eyes are dry. "I figured."

"I won't be coming to the pool house at night, either. So, if you want to lock your doors, you should."

She swallows as something ripples across her eyes. "I understand."

Slowly, I rise to my feet. She watches my movements, but she doesn't mimic them. And fucking hell, this moment is harder than it ever should've been.

I can't say goodbye to her properly. I can't reassure her the way I want to. In the absence of all the things I can't say to her, I give her one last promise.

"I'm going to make sure your aunt is safe and protected, Natalia. No one will ever hurt her again. You have my word."

Her lips tremble, her eyes turn watery, but still, she doesn't shed a tear. "I know that, too, Andrey."