Page 42 of Emerald Vices

Remi, on the other hand, isn’t fond of the drive and spends the entire ride whining. But the moment we pull up in front of a gorgeous cottage nestled in the middle of a leafy enclave, he’s bounding out of the car faster than I can order him to heel.

“Wow!” Misha follows the trail of ivy up the trellises. “This is cool.”

We step into the house, which is smaller and cozier than I would have expected for an Andrey Kuznetsov property. But it’s still larger than anywhere Aunt Annie has ever lived before.

Her personal housekeeper-slash-caretaker points us in the direction of the parlor, but before I can surprise Aunt Annie, I realize Remi’s already beaten us to the punch. He’s slobbering all over my aunt, kissing her hands and arms.

When Aunt Annie sees me, she jumps up. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite daughter!”

“I wanted to surprise you, but Remi kinda blew it.”

Annie scoffs. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but when the security team showed up fifteen minutes before you did and did a full search of the place, I had an inkling you might be stopping by.”

I scowl and drop myself into the cushy armchair next to hers. “Of course. Why did I think he would be subtle about this?”

Aunt Annie just laughs and turns to Misha, who flashes just enough of a sheepish smile to make me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I was the very last person to be informed about today’s little field trip.

So much for reclaiming my independence.

The moment Misha’s soft snore reaches a crescendo, Aunt Annie gives me a wink and gestures for me to follow her outside.

It’s been an hour of snacks and conversation, which has been great for me and Aunt Annie, but the boys couldn’t hang. Remi abandoned us for the backyard a while back, and Misha was dozing off and on for fifteen minutes before he finally gave in and curled up on the couch.

Aunt Annie rests her cane against the wall and we settle on the patio sofa where we can watch Remi make sweeping circles of the yard, a fallen tree branch balanced in his jaw.

“He’s a good boy, that Misha,” Aunt Annie remarks fondly.

“He is, isn’t he?” I can’t help but smile. “I know it sounds insane, but he genuinely feels like he’s mine. Like he was meant for me.”

“That doesn’t sound insane at all. That’s exactly how I felt about you.”

My eyes get watery, but I blink it away. “Really? Despite the circumstances?”

Aunt Annie’s eyes are awash with tears, too. When was the last time I saw her cry? Probably when I was a little girl—and even then, it wasn’t often.

“The circumstances were outside our control, Nat. It happened. But as a consequence, you ended up with me.” She takes my hand, clasping it tightly in her own. “I used to think sometimes that you were sent to save me from my own grief.”

“I thought the same about you.”

“Then I guess we were meant for each other in the same way you and Misha are.” She squeezes my hand gently. “Some people really are soulmates.”

Andrey’s face flashes through my head, despite my best efforts to keep him out. I sigh. “And other people are just lessons.”

Aunt Annie watches me, and I get the same feeling I used to get when I was a little girl—like all it takes is one searing look from her to crack all of my thoughts wide open like an egg.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know?” she says gently. “We need lessons to help us grow. To evolve.”

Biting on my bottom lip, I stare at our linked hands. Aunt Annie’s are veined, marked with tiny liver spots that I know she didn’t have a few years ago. “I’m sorry, Aunt Annie.”

She squints at me. “For what, sweetheart?”

“For everything that’s happened. For… the attack on your life, for the fact that you have to live outside your home. You can’t even go to work anymore.”

“I don’t really miss work, if we’re being honest,” she admits. “It’s nice to sit still for a moment, you know?”

“As long as you’re happy…”

“I’ll be happy when I know you’re at peace.”

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