Page 19 of Falling for the Enemy

The echoes of her footfalls as she reaches the stairs remind me of our childhood. Of times when I would chase her up and down these same halls, the sound of her beautiful voice ringing out.

Back before everything went bad.

Back before Papa—

I force away the morbid thoughts that circle like vultures ready to feast and focus on the wish my heart is busy making. Weeping for all that was lost many years ago, it begs time to freeze, forever capturing this rare and precious moment that, to my disdain, will soon end.

A moment in which Mina is no longer a broken Russian printsessa, and I’m no longer a cold-hearted Bratva queen.

Instead, she’s just her, and I’m just me.

And for once, we’re free.

* * *

I don’t catch Mina.

By the time I make it to the bottom of the stairs, she’s already seated in the dining room at our sixteen-person table, an eye-crinkling grin on her beautiful face.

I stick my tongue out at her, basking in the playful side of me that only she and Anna, Casper’s teenage sister, ever get to see. “Cheater.”

She rolls her blue eyes. Slowpoke.

The quiet laughter that sneaks past my lips dies, becoming nothing more than a memory, when Nikolai walks into the room, the front of his expensive black shirt covered in what resembles flour. With his appearance, I shed all traces of softness, the iciness I wear like armor transforming my expression and mood.

One second.

That’s all it takes for the coldness to seep in.

And for my charred heart to refreeze.

“Mina needs to eat,” he says, his clipped Russian accent thick with irritation. “I tried to fix breakfast…” Voice trailing off, likely suffocated by the volatile anger that fills him, he fists his calloused hands, the vein in his right temple bulging the slightest bit.

It takes little to get him worked up.

Much like me.

“Sit,” I tell him, pointing to the table where Mina is perched, staring out the picture window, lost in her thoughts. “I’ll cook us all—”

My lips still, the words on the tip of my tongue remaining unspoken when the front door suddenly swings open, the unarmed security alarm beeping once in warning. Without having to call out and ask who it is that’s entered, I already know who’s moving through our home, seconds from appearing.

One look at Mina and I know.

Shoulders tensed, her cheeks have pinkened, and her breaths have increased. In her lap, she fiddles with her fingers, her hands tensing and relaxing repeatedly. Head dipping forward, she closes her eyes before allowing them to flutter right back open, her left leg bouncing.

Only two people provoke such a reaction.

And one is standing in the room with us.

Footsteps move down the hall, their echoes growing louder as the other comes closer. Then, like every morning, he appears. “Dobroye utro, Casper,” I say, greeting the man my sister has loved ever since she was a little girl, but that neither her demons nor I will ever allow her to claim as her own. I trust him to keep her safe. I don’t trust him with her already-fractured heart. “Breakfast?”

He nods in a silent reply but doesn’t look at me. This doesn’t surprise me since Mina is in the room. Whenever she’s present, his gaze is locked on her, never once deviating unless it’s a matter of life or death.

It’s always been that way.

He doesn’t even try to hide it.

Eager to feed Mina, I turn toward the kitchen. I’m stopped from taking a step forward when my stare lands on Nikolai again. Face etched in rage, he looks close to coming unhinged.

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