Page 42 of The Russian Retribution

Did my mother stare out of these windows and gaze across the same garden picturing what it would be like to see me playing among the flowers? Or did she hold the same uncertainty that exists in my heart when thinking about the life that I would have?

Pain tightens deep in my chest. How can I miss someone I never met? My mother is just a story. I know more about my tutor than I know about her, and I’ll never get my answers.

But still, I wonder.

The pen between my fingers lowers down to the paper and then nearly falls as it slips from my lax fingers. Luckily, it doesn’t roll too far away as it’s stopped suddenly by another hand and a shadow falls over me.

“Anastasia?”

Erik’s warm voice fills my ears and pulls me back from my distraction in the garden. I blink quickly and glance up at him. His handsome face warms with a smile and he holds out a steaming mug.

“Tea,” he says. “You need it.”

“Thank you.” Accepting the cup, I warm my hands against the porcelain and sip the tea while staring up at him. “Erik?”

“Yes?” He tucks my pen into the crease of a nearby binder.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Oh. I thought it would be safe here so it doesn’t roll away again.”

“Not that,” I scoff gently. “Why are you doing so much for me? This past week, you’ve been non-stop with cooking and cleaning, bringing me tea, and making sure I rest while never being late with my medication.” I squint up at him as the warmth of the tea spreads through my body. “Why?”

His brows raise and he drags one hand through his hair. Several strands slip forward and dance along his forehead when he shrugs. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to make sure I don’t die,” I correct. “Not to make sure I’m getting my five a day.”

“Only you would see it so black and white.” Erik chuckles. “It’s my job to take care of you, Anastasia. That doesn’t just mean stopping people from trying to harm you. It means I take care of you in the ways you need so you’re at your best for the things you need to do. That’s my job. Sometimes, I have to protect you from yourself.”

“Do you think I’m a danger to myself?” I sip my tea once more.

Erik moves around me, gathering the papers and clearing himself a space to sit next to me. As he lowers down, he sighs deeply and my eyes drift to the buttons straining over his muscular chest. One large inhale and they would surely pop free.

I swallow hard.

“Yes,” Erik says. “Unintentionally, though. Which I think is fine because the stress of what you have to do on top of keeping literally hundreds of people happy is kind of insane. I knowthat…” He pauses, and his brow wrinkles. “Viktor said some pretty terrible stuff last week.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s stuck in the past.”

“I agree,” he says. “But he’s also passionate. I’m not excusing him at all, I just mean that with that kind of pressure from the ones who are on your side, to launching new business ventures, keeping people safe, rescuing the ones we’ve harmed, all while the Cartel breathes down our necks… It's a lot for one person. Kind of makes sense why your father had eight generals to help.”

“Is that what I’m missing?” I snort softly. “I need to find myself some generals.”

“It’s up to you, really. But it’s why I’m here to protect you from yourself because while you’re dealing with all of that, you’re not kind to yourself. I’ve seen you go almost all day without eating. You sleep maybe three hours a night. And sure, you are the boss.”

“So what changed?” I stare at him over the lip of my cup. “I’m still the boss.”

“True. I just adjusted my job perspective.” Erik’s smile widens. “You can’t pay me if you end up dead from your own actions, so I’m going to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. And I always will be.”

There’s something incredibly meaningful in the way he says that. I’m under no illusions that Erik sees this as any more than a job with some sexy benefits, but if I squint, I can pretend that his words come from a place of real affection.

“What if I fire you?”

“You’d miss me too much,” he replies immediately. “No one makes your tea the way you like it except me. Not even Faina. You really want to fire that?”

He waggles his brows and finally pulls a small laugh from me. “Alright, fair point.”

“Plus, I like taking care of you,” Erik says, leaning forward to adjust some of the papers on the table before us. “It’s nice.”

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