Page 139 of The Enemy Protector
"I know," she says.
She believes me. That trust that has come to mean more to me than anything else in the world.
I pull her closer. Her hand tightens over mine.
“I let my guard down,” she says.
“You were at home. You should have been safe.”
“I’ll never be safe.”
“Yes, you will. You are. Nelson is moving into the Brownstone. He’ll be with you anytime I’m not.”
“For how long, Sergei?”
“Until Yuri is dead, which is going to happen sooner rather than later.”
I wait for her to argue.
She doesn’t.
I hold her and press my mouth to the back of her head. I make the promise quietly, to her and to the woman I made promises to eight years ago.
No one will ever get that close again.
On my life.
31
Sofia
Two weeks of quiet.
I don't trust it.
In my world, quiet means one of two things: either the threat has been neutralized and you can exhale, or the threat has gone underground and is building toward something worse. The second option is more common. I've lived long enough in the Baranov empire to know that calm is rarely good. I will not get complacent again.
Yuri is still out there.
But for two weeks, nothing has happened. No one has taken a shot at me. No board meetings I wasn't told about. Sergei's security rotation has been reinforced. Nelson is my constant companion. The only time he’s not with me is when I’m physically in the bathroom or in bed with Sergei. I barely even notice him there anymore. He’s a shadow that talks back.
“Coffee,” I say to Nelson as we cross campus.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
I order my usual and wait while the barista makes it. Nelson orders something complicated that involves oat milk and three different syrups. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“What?” he says defensively. “I like what I like.”
“I’m not judging.” I am absolutely judging, and I will tease him relentlessly.
The barista hands me my drink, and I take a grateful sip. The chocolatey goodness hits my tongue and for a moment, everything is perfect. Then my stomach lurches.
I freeze mid-sip. Like not breathing might stop what I feel coming.
I swallow carefully, willing my body to cooperate. The nausea builds like a wave. I set the coffee down on the counter with shaking hands.
“Sofia?” Nelson is immediately alert. “What’s wrong?”
