Page 16 of King’s Promise

“If I must,” she sighs. Her quick agreement has me worried. What is she contemplating?

Alex extends a hand and formally introduces himself. “Please give me your schedule, I’ll make sure we’re cleared to go.”

“You’re driving me?” Surprise rings in her voice.

“Of course, ma’am. How else am I to keep you safe? Can you do a pit maneuver?”

“No,” she says without blinking or looking away.

“I need to be able to keep you out of harm’s way. One needs practice to act quickly. I’m that person.”

“Fine.” She hands him her phone. He enters his information. “I’ll text you later.” She turns to me. “Are we done?”

“Yes.” I speak for us all.

She turns to Pavel. “Good morning, Pavel,” she says and gives him a megawatt smile.

“Ma’am.”

She exits without haste.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“No clue.” Pavel runs his hand over his neck. “I’m too old to know what kids are thinking nowadays.”

“Be on your toes,” I instruct Alex. “You’ll need to work with the staff for our secret wedding next week. Tonight, we have a service for Anya’s father. Please don’t mention Baran. We’ll see how this plays out.”

Alex nods and is excused. No doubt he’ll be checking in with my future wife. It’s one less task on my plate.

* * *

After a quiet dinner at home,we meet her family at the church at seven for a mass. My security team is conducting surveillance on the guests. I anticipate a few billionaires with English citizenship showing up out of obligation.

Anya stands close to her mother and sister. With everyone dressed in black with grim faces, it’s the epitome of the nightmare before Christmas, sorrow surrounds us; fear permeates the air. No, our friend did not off himself.

Katerynia is three years younger than Anya. They share the same blonde hair, wear it long, and look so much alike they would easily pass as twins.

6

Anya

Ijoin Nikolay’s side at the wake. I am startled by his apparent jealousy over Sergei. His eyebrows furrowed as his jaw tightened. It might be my imagination, but I swear his body relaxed with my presence. And here I thought I only irritated him. He slides his arm through mine as he leads me around the room filled with strange faces. These are men of the Bratva, and they nod their head out of respect for the king. There is a hierarchy and Nikolay’s face is not known to all of the men under him. In society, he is a legitimate businessman looking for connections, or using partners as covers for his dirty deeds. A chill, like the cold fingers of a witch, eerily riffle through me as I observe the somber occasion and the vibe coming off the men.

We come upon my sister, and he pauses. I give her a hug. Mum is talking to friends of the family; ones close enough to be part of her social scene and by that I assume inner circle. Many of the people are my mother’s neighbors. I suspect some are Papa’s business associates. I can’t imagine what these men do for a living. They don’t wear labels, it’s left to my imagination. Is one of them responsible for my father’s death? Will someone challenge Nikolay?

“How are you, Katerynia?” My sister wraps her arms around me. I’m sure she’s had to step up and help Mum now that I’m not around due to my new jailor.

“I’ll miss Papa, but he’d want us to go on.” I attempt to cheer her up as her eyes are puffy from crying. I’m marrying Nikolay, and he’s all we need to retain the criminal syndicate. She has a life of freedom ahead of her; I doubt she has an inkling as to the sacrifices I’ve made for her safety.

Katerynia gets to marry whom she chooses, and I hope she doesn’t rush into anything. I want her to wait and make a good choice so my efforts to give her a normal life aren’t wasted.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Nikolay’s stern voice is on autopilot, yet his tone is as sweet as honey, and it puts me at ease. I doubt the man has an inkling of empathy in his body, so maybe it’s the toll of exhaustion catching up to him. I can’t shake the thought of Baran lying dead and the order he gave Pavel.

“Thank you, Nikolay. I hear you’ll both grace us with a happy occasion soon.” My sister resumes her stoic posture, her face composed.

“Yes, I hope you’ll have time to help Anya with planning a small affair.”

“Of course, we’re sisters,” she exclaims and her face lights up. In the darkness, there is light, another reason for a wedding in the midst of the gloom overshadowing us.

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