Page 124

I look up and forget how to breathe.

Vasily.

For the past several days, I’ve managed to avoid him with an efficiency I would normally be proud of. We’ve crossed paths at the lake house, exchanged brief looks over breakfast or in the hallway, but I’ve kept myself busy. The trial is a legitimate excuse. There has been more than enough preparation to consume every waking hour.

But that isn’t the only reason.

I’m terrified that if he looks at me for too long, he’ll know. A man like Vasily Borisov could take one look at someone and peel the truth from their skin.

I’ve decided I want this baby. I haven’t figured out how to tell him while he still controls whether I get to leave. So I certainly don’t need Vasily standing across a courtroom studying my face.

His gaze finds me. For one awful second, I’m certain he sees everything. Then something in his expression changes.

It’s subtle. A slight narrowing of his eyes, the faintest tilt of his head.

Calm.

I feel it move through me before I can stop it. My shoulders loosen. My breathing steadies. He gives me one final look before sweeping his gaze across the courtroom. Every person, doorway, unfamiliar face…cataloging and categorizing them all on a spectrum of threat.

Then he takes a seat.

My phone vibrates against the table. I glance down quickly.

Vasily: Two of the men in the gallery are Yuri’s. Maybe more. They’re likely reporting back to him.

My stomach tightens. I don’t look toward the gallery again, but in my mind’s eye I can see those strangers watching me.

Instead, I turn toward Mikhail. He’s watching the same people I was, fingers tapping anxiously against the table.

“You see them?” he whispers.

“Some of them,” I confirm quietly, confidently. “Don’t look.”

His worried eyes swing back to me. “Are they⁠—”

“Don’t worry about them.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because worrying won’t change anything.”

It’s the same thing I’ve told myself for years. Control what you can control. I place my hand over his restless fingers, a little more intimately than I like to be with my clients, but once again I’m in deeper than I ever thought I’d let myself get.

It’s not like I ever anticipated getting kidnapped, agreeing to defend a Pakhan’s accountant, and slowly falling for him.

“We’re here. We prepared. We know what we’re doing.”

Mikhail takes a deep breath. Then another. It’s as if the calm Vasily instilled in me moments ago is moving through Mikhail now. Strange. You’d think a crime boss would inspire fear, not security. Mikhail’s shoulders gradually lower.

“Okay.”

“We’re going to be fine.”

For a moment, I almost believe it myself. Then the courtroom doors open again, just enough to let someone slip through. A few heads turn; a few glances cross the room. And this time, the person walking through them makes my entire body go still.

Every thought in my head disappears.

Semiyon.