Page 26 of Niko's Printsessa

“Bedrest?”

“If you think of anyone who might be a threat, text me.”

He lets us go and I watch her immediately fold into herself. Her shoulders slump and she buries her head in her hands, her voice panicked, “The stress isn’t good for Summer and the baby. What if…”

“Don’t think like that.”

“You heard him! She’s on bedrest.”

Distress shadows her face. She could care less about her own safety.

“I’m sure it’s just a formality, and the doctor is being extra cautious, wanting to avoid Andrei’s wrath.”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he sound concerned? She’s healthy and the baby is healthy. Andrei will protect her with his life. But that’s why you’re stuck here, with me.”

“I don’t understand. Why is someone after me? What have I done?”

“Nothing, Bec. You know that.”

She snorts sarcastically. “My last name strikes again. I’m so tired of living like this!” She screams.

Her laugh borders on hysteria. “Don’t you get it? I’m cursed. There will always be something or someone. My life will never be my own!”

She yells, throwing anything she can get her hands on. Easels are knocked down, canvases thrown across the room, and paint splatters the walls.

“I have no real friends, except for Anya, and no guy is brave enough to date me, let alone love me. I can’t sell my art, and now because of some asshat, I can’t see my family or even go to work!”

She destroys the room until she’s exhausted herself, falling to her knees, defeated. I scoop her into my arms cradling her against me, leaning against the wall as she sobs into my chest. I hate seeing her like this but I also know Becca. She doesn’t want empty words of comfort.

I caress her until her tears finally slow and her sobs soften to sniffles.

Her throat is dry and scratchy from yelling. “You must think I’m a spoiled rich girl, who doesn’t know how good I have it.”

“No. If I had a choice between love or money, I’d choose love.”

She tilts her head. “You would?”

“Of course.” I honestly don’t know why I said that.

“I’ll never have a choice, that’s the problem.”

“You have friends, Bec.”

“Huh?”

“You said you don’t have real friends, but you do.”

“Anya.”

“And Summer, Tali, Andrei and Sergei.”

“I’m grateful for them.”

“And you have me.”

She smirks, “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

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