Page 102 of Emerald Malice

“Hm. Do you think there’s someone else?”

The mere question has my heart sinking. Remi seems to sense it. He lifts his head and looks at me with those deep blue eyes. I’ll kill whoever’s hurting you, that look says.

I kiss his nose and pet him until he drops his head again. “I have no idea. Andrey’s life is a complete and utter mystery to me.”

“Maybe you could, like, ask him out or something?” Katya suggests. “Just go in for the kill, you know?”

I bound off the sofa so abruptly that Remi yelps. “Andrey has made it very clear that I’m nothing more to him than the mother of his child. And I’m not about to chase after a man who isn’t interested.”

“But what if he is?—”

“Sorry, Kat,” I interrupt abruptly. “Remi needs a walk. See you this Saturday!”

I hang up before she’s even gotten her goodbye halfway out.

The mere thought of asking Andrey out on a date is enough to give me hives. Not that I haven’t imagined a few different scenarios… especially since he gave me Remi. It was just such a thoughtful gesture.

“I want you to be happy,” he told me. For once, I actually believed him.

There was this look in his eyes as he said it, too. Something suggesting that, beneath that cold, austere Bratva mask, is a man who has feelings just as thorny and unwelcome as mine.

He just hides them a little better.

Okay—a lot better.

I wear my heart on my sleeve whether I like it or not. Andrey, though? Andrey has secrets.

And I might just be one of them.

Ignoring Remi’s leash, I open the door and let him bound freely out onto the grass. As I follow him out, I practice the Russian commands quietly under my breath.

‘Sidet means “sit.”

Nyet means “no.”

Bros ‘eto means “leave it.”

Tikhiy means “quiet.”

And ataka—I’m not a fan of this one, but Shura insisted I learn it—means “attack.”

I’m trying to get my pronunciation of tikhiy right because I keep butchering it, when Remi lifts his head and freezes. His body is rigid with tension and a menacing growl emanates from his muscular chest.

“Rem—”

Before I can even finish his name, he bursts forward in a blur and disappears around the corner.

Then I hear three angry barks.

And a terrified, high-pitched scream.

Just like that, I forget I’m pregnant. I forget I hate running. I forget all the commands I’ve learned over the last few days as I sprint around the side of the house.

I find him hunched over someone whose legs are flailing helplessly between Remi’s hindquarters. Remi’s got a skinny forearm locked between his jaws.

“Stop, Remi!”

Remi growls louder while the person wails.

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