Page 61 of Forced Marriage Vows

“Make sure she doesn’t find out until it’s done.”

He nods and, after confirming I don’t need anything else, walks out of the room. I spend another hour in the office, reviewing contracts, going over potential allies and beneficial deals the Bratva could engage in. I have to leave in about twenty minutes but I’d been hoping to see Anastasia before I did. She’s meant to be back from her yoga session by now.

There’s soon a knock on the door. It’s one of her bodyguards, who informs me that she’s returned. I get to my feet, stepping out from behind my desk.

“How was her session? It took longer than usual today.”

“It seemed to go okay, sir. She and Mrs. Volkov, were in there for about ninety minutes and after they went into the café next door. They spent time in there talking.”

“Alone?” I hedge.

“They chose a seat toward the back of the café so we couldn’t see inside, but it seemed so.”

My eyebrow arches but I decide not to see too much into that. Plus, I’m pretty sure she’d be pissed if she knew I was asking the guards to give me the details of her time away from the house.

“Alright, you can go.”

He inclines his head once before walking away. I decide to go in search of Anastasia. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen. When I pass the hallway where our bedrooms are, I find her door cracked open. I lean against the doorway, watching her for a minute. She seems to be looking for something, going through the books on her desk. She’s still in her yoga clothes, blonde hair pulled up.

“Anastasia.”

She jumps, turning around with her hand clutching her chest.

“Jesus, Mikhail. You scared me,” she scolds.

My eyes narrow onto the expression on her face. “Why are you so jumpy?”

“No reason,” she murmurs, turning around to stare at her desk.

I immediately know something’s off. “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing.”

My lips thin. “Do you seriously expect me to buy that? What’s going on, Anastasia?”

She runs a hand through her hair before turning to face me.

“Seriously, it’s nothing you need to be bothered by, Mikhail. I was just searching for the flash drive Lucia gave me earlier this week. It’s supposed to contain the design samples she’s hoping to use for the magazine’s edition next month.”

“That’s it?” I ask, my brows furrowed.

“The house isn’t burning down, so you can relax,” she states, a teasing lilt to her voice.

She steps toward me and wraps her arms around my neck, tugging my head down for a kiss.

“I’ll ask someone to search the room for the drive,” I tell her once we pull away.

“Thank you,” she breathes.

But I’m not sure I believe that’s what’s going on with her. She still seems a little frazzled, a shadow in her brown eyes. I follow her into the kitchen, taking a seat at the dining table while she heads for the fridge.

“How was yoga?” I ask, leaning back in my chair, keeping my tone casual.

“Good,” she says over her shoulder, rummaging through the fridge. “Really calming. You should try it sometime.”

She pulls out a bottle of water, twisting the cap open a little too quickly.

“I think I’m good. Besides, you don’t look very calm right now.”

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