Page 87 of Doctored Vows

I asked Ano about it yesterday morning. He laughed and shook his head before he returned his eyes to the road.

I want to believe Maksim is placing my wedding rings back on, but shouldn’t I sense his presence?

Before his secrets were exposed, I noticed the most minor details.

Now I feel like I couldn’t spot him in a crowd.

When Alla peers at me in silent questioning, I say, “It’s complicated.” I’m unwilling to open that can of worms at any time of the day, much less at 2 a.m. on a Sunday. “Are you on your way in or out?”

Her chest sinks as she exhales. “Out. Thank God. It’s been a crazy house here the past few weeks. I’m beat.” My heart melts when she enters the locker room, throws her arm around my shoulders, and then guides us toward the exit. “But not too tired to walk home my favorite doctor. I’ve missed you so much. It isn’t the same place without you.”

“I was planning to visit you on Donut Holes Thursday and then…” My words trail off. I’m too ashamed to admit two detectives basically interrogated me.

Alla is just like Zoya. She would never let me off so easily. “You got a visit from Tweedledum and Tweedledee?” When my sigh answers her question on my behalf, she bumps me with her hip. “They’ve been sniffing around a lot the past few days. The girl?—”

“Lara,” I interrupt, conscious she is terrible with names.

“She’s good. Decent, even. But Ivan…” He must have rubbed her the wrong way if she remembered his name. “He’s a snake in long grass.”

“More like a bull in a China shop.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Just with smaller balls.” When I roll my eyes, her laughter loudens. “He has major small dick vibes.” Her voice suddenly turns husky. “Unlike your husband.” She lassoes the air while galloping like a cowgirl. “I would have saddled up and rode him all the way to the altar too, even without requesting him to whip it out so I could check he was a thoroughbred.”

“Alla!”

I can’t stop laughing, and the more I try to discipline myself for its inappropriateness, the more it occurs.

I miss the playfulness of exchanges like this. More people surround me now than ever, but I’ve never felt more lonely.

That confession takes care of my giggles. They’re under control and locked away by the time we arrive at Alla’s car, parked a few spots up from the staff-only exit of Myasnikov Private.

“This is me,” Alla says. “Let me put away my things, and then I’ll walk you the rest of the way.”

My mouth gapes like it hears the hundreds of cuss words tumbling around in my head, but it isn’t willing to say them.

When Alla locks up her vehicle in preparation to chaperone my walk home, I say, “It’s fine. I’ve got this. You go.”

She fans her hands across her tiny hips before cocking a brow. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but you’re a bad liar.”

I speak before my body can consider sobbing. “I may have been informed of that a handful of times.”

She thanks me for my honesty with a smile before saying, “What’s going on? You seem… scared.”

I’m not scared. I’m just… scared. Ano is great, but I’d never want to be on his bad side. He has the same dangerous edge as Maksim but without the burden of being the head of a family. That level of freedom only ever ends one way—recklessly.

When Alla encourages me to continue down the truthful route, what should be a short sentence takes a long time to be delivered since I’m praying it won’t make me sound like a snob. “I have a driver waiting for me.”

“A driver?” She wolf whistles.

“It’s not like that. He’s a friend of Maksim’s?—”

“Who drives you to work every day?” When I nod, Alla says, “Then that makes him your driver, baby girl.” She takes a moment to relish my grimace before she nudges her head to the entrance we broke through only minutes ago. “Go on. I’ll wait for you to enter before I leave. These alleyways give me the creeps.”

I see her fear worsening if she knew this was the alleyway where Dr. Abdulov lost his life, so instead of announcing that, I tell her to climb into the driver’s seat and wind down the window.

“Don’t act like your squeal isn’t loud enough to alert everyone within five miles to any danger occurring,” I say when she attempts an objection.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me.” She unlocks her car door and slips inside before winding down the window. “But I’m going to start the engine too. Zero to sixty in under a second wasn’t solely designed for race car drivers.” Giggles bubble in my chest again when she scans the dark, dingy alleyway before saying, “This alleyway could do with a speedbump or two. It will stop the hoons.”

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