Page 95 of The Russian Retribution

The words don’t come so I accept the sandwich she presses into my hand and force myself to bite. It tastes like cardboard, but I chew while she watches me like a hawk.

“Tatiana called again,” Faina says. “I wish you would talk to her.”

My heart skips a beat. “I can’t. I don’t want to hear the deal I worked so hard for go up in smoke.”

“Technically, if it’s already up in smoke, then the call won’t make a difference,” Faina replies.

“You know what I mean. If I don’t hear it, then it’s not real.”

“Anastasia.” She pours me tea from the ornate teapot and sets the cup down on a delicate saucer. “I’m really worried about you. I understood at first, why you closed yourself off. What happened between you and Viktor was awful.” Her eyes dart down to my belly. “But you’re continuing to shut yourself off from the world and I’m concerned. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I have you.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You barely let me in here as it is.”

“Who else is there?” I scoff, setting the half-eaten sandwich aside. “Erik? He’s in a coma after falling all those floors and landing on the window cleaning lift. It’s a wonder he didn’t bounce and roll off like Viktor did or he’d be dead on the sidewalk miles below. Hell, at this point, it’s basically the same thing.”

“Anastasia—”

“Or the Italians?” I continue angrily, latching onto the one emotion that doesn’t cause me pain. “They’re furious because Rocky nearly died, and quite right. He was helping me quietly, and it almost killed him. The Irish? They’re doing damage control for putting me in touch with Rocky in the first place. My own people? The ones who weren’t blown up at the gala are wary to trust me, and good for them! Look at the mess I’ve caused.”

Faina listens to my rant and then gently touches my knee. “You’re accepting responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.”

“Well, who else is there to blame?” I yell. “Viktor? He’s fucking dead. Erik, maybe, for letting it get this far? Well, he’s in a coma. He left me too, so that idea is in the ground.”

“You’re ignoring the good that came out of this. Everyone knows Viktor tried to kill you. The police also did their job perfectly, and everyone knows that his fingerprints were found on the weapon that killed your father. To anyone daring to look, it looks like he was so hungry for power and greed that he tried to frame you, and then he tried to kill you when his plan failed. This paints you in a good light, don’t you see?”

“And is it worth it?” I ask softly as the tears well again, blurring Faina’s worried face. “If what you say is even a fraction of the truth, then is it even worth it? I love Erik and he… he’s in a coma. He’s so far away from me. My business is in shambles, my family name barely holds any weight, and I’m about to have a baby that I have no clue how to raise, never mind protect. So what does it matter what people think about Viktor?”

“Sweetie, you’re missing my point?—”

“Get out.”

“Anastasia.”

“Getout. I want to be alone.”

“I…” Faina clearly wants to say more, but she stops herself and stands. “I understand you’re in pain, and I’m here for you. You’re not as alone as you feel.”

I turn away, gazing into the flames of the fireplace until my eyes burn. The door clicks closed as Faina leaves and another wave of tears consumes me.

I’m scared.

Terrified.

The strength and boldness that have driven me for the past year died on that rooftop.

How can I raise a baby like this?

The plate slides off the edge of the couch, clattering on the floor and sending the sandwiches scattering across the floor, which makes me cry harder.

Faina is wrong.

I am completely alone.

37

ERIK

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