Page 128 of Emerald Vices

NATALIA

Andrey,

I couldn’t find you before I left—hence the note. I’m taking the kids to Aunt Annie’s old place for a few days. I just need a breather in a different environment. Misha and Remi are with me, plus my six-man security team. So there’s no reason to worry.

We’ll talk when I get back home.

For the record, I’m still mad. I’ll probably still be mad when I get home in three days.

But I love you. That’s not going anywhere. And neither am I.

—Nat

I leave the note on our bed and then head downstairs with my duffel. The twins are already in their car seats by the door. Misha has Remi’s leash and is blowing raspberries at his baby sister.

“Ready for our little adventure?” I ask.

“Adventure” might be overstating things. I’m running—I know that. Aunt Annie knew it, too, when she came to see me last night. Andrey sent her so I’d have someone to talk to, but there’s nothing to say. I’m not interested in hearing his side of the story, and I’m not interested in staying in this house another second.

“The car seats are locked and loaded.” Misha takes the bag from my shoulder. “Let me get the stroller.”

The twins are wide awake for now, but they just ate, and I have a feeling they’ll sleep on the drive over.

Leif is waiting outside for us, flanked by two jeeps loaded down with equipment. “Don’t you think this is a little overkill, Leif?”

“No,” he answers flatly, “I don’t.”

Rolling my eyes, I decide to pick my battles. “Things okay at the house?”

“Everything looks good. We did a thorough check.”

“Perfect.” I give him what I hope is my most charming smile and hurry through the next sentence. “By the way, I’d like to drive today.”

Leif purses his lips. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Nat.”

Of course, it’s not. Because giving Natalia a little independence is never a good idea in this house.

But I save my complaints and jump straight to the begging. “Please, Leif? Preeeetty please? Just this once? Don’t make me break out the sugar on top.’”

He groans. “Fine. Just today. But you’re driving between the two jeeps, got it?”

I salute him. “Aye-aye, captain.”

Misha gives me a fist pump and a high-five, and then we load the twins into the back of the armored SUV.

The moment we leave the gates of the manor behind, I take a deep breath, my hands relaxing on the wheel.

It feels good to drive myself.

It feels good to take control.

It feels good to spend some time alone—just me and my kids. Remi nudges my shoulder like he can read my mind and knows I almost forgot him, so I mentally add him to the list of my current blessings.

This is nice.

“Are you and Andrey fighting again?” Misha pipes up from the back seat.

Just like that, the rosy sheen of the moment fades. I don’t want to talk about this, but Misha won’t drop it until I do.

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