Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
On the night before my wedding, Father told me to spy on Nikolai. Get whatever useful information from him, take photos of his documents. I had several chances to do just that, and Father didn’t let a day pass without texting me a reminder.
I can’t do it. I won’t.
This man trusts me enough that he lets me wander in his home. Father never did.
I’m not going to betray Nikolai when he hasn't done anything except welcome me to his home and give me the best sleep I’ve had in years. I’m beginning to think the air here is cleaner because I can breathe more freely. Sure, the overthinking is there, and so is the anxiety, but at least I don’t dread leaving my bedroom every single day.
I’m so lost between my random thoughts and the pages of my Anatomy and Physiology book when I hear the unmistakable, familiar sound of tires on gravel.
A smile spreads across my face, my excitement bubbling over.
This is crazy, and he’s probably tired from work, only looking forward to a peaceful night ahead.
But I crave his company, and I want to see him.
I practically fly out of my chair, running barefoot toward the front door. I’m wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts, but I don’t care. We can’t avoid each other forever. I don’t want to.
The wide door swings open just as I come to a halt in front of it. A rush of cold air sweeps in, but it’s quickly forgotten as I see my husband. He steps inside, his suit jacket draped over his forearm, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow.
He hasn’t noticed me yet as his eyes are glued to his phone.
Clearing my throat, I beam at him. “You’re home early.”
Nikolai freezes mid-step and snaps his head up, his eyebrows scrunching as though I just sprouted wings and two horns. “Nina? Is everything okay?”
I twine my fingers behind me and nod. “I just want to have dinner with my husband.”
6
NIKOLAI
Nina wants to eat dinner with me, and I don’t even have to force her to.
The day was long, and I came home mentally preparing for the next, barely aware of my surroundings. Her voice cut through my thoughts, and I was sure I was either imagining her or hallucinating from hunger.
When she took a step toward me, the world tilted on its axis.
God, I missed my wife, but after nearly scaring her the other night, I did what I could to make her comfortable, even if that meant sneaking into my own house.
Now, she wants my company, and the exhaustion of the day melts away.
Elsa and Wilma, her personal maids, stand to the side, not bothering to hide how they’re enjoying this exchange, especially my reaction.
“You’ve not eaten yet?” I ask Nina, checking the time on my watch and frowning when I see it is almost eight in the evening.
“No. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, tripling my heart rate, making my palms sweat. “Oh, are you bored here?”
She ignores the question. “Nikolai, do you want me to join you for dinner, or do you prefer to eat alone?”
What is even that question? How can she ask that when she dominates my thoughts 24/7? She’s always in the perimeters of my mind even while I’m neck-deep in meetings. Why does she—
“Yes, Nina. He would love it if you joined him for dinner,” Elsa says, grinning from ear to ear.
Have I been too lenient with them? Is it high time to start acting like an asshole boss?
“Well?” Nina smiles again, stopping my heart, the yearning making blood roar in my ears. “Let’s go. We don’t want the food getting cold.”
We make our way to the dining room, Nina walking beside me. I pull out a chair for her, catching a whiff of her clean scent as she sits. I settle into the chair at the head of the long mahogany table, and this cold room suddenly feels cozy and intimate.
The cook, Dario, carries a tray laden with steaming dishes. He moves with practiced grace, setting down platters of roasted vegetables, beef stroganoff, beetroot soup, and dumplings. It’s too much for both of us, but Dario cooks meals for all the staff members, not just me and Nina.
“What’s your favorite food?” Nina asks.
I fork a piece of ground meat dumpling and think. “Chicken pot pie.”
“Dessert?”
“I’m not really a dessert person.”
“Not even ice cream?”
“Ice cream is disgusting.”
Nina slowly puts her cutleries down and scowls at me. “You did not just say that.”
I lift one shoulder. “It’s just milk with flavor. That’s disgusting.”
Nina crosses her arms over her chest, and I don’t miss the fact that she’s not wearing a bra. Sure, she has a big shirt on, but I can pinpoint where her nipples are, especially with the way she unknowingly squishes her tits together. “Wow. Only a monster would say that.”