Page 7 of Keeping My Enemies Closer: Pt. 2

Chapter 4

Kasimir~

Not only was Viktor checking on me constantly, but my father was also calling me every few hours, making sure that I wasn’t about to go on a killing rampage, which was fair.I’d never felt this level of unease before, and that was saying something when you considered how I’d grown up and the things that I’d seen during my formative years.

It was also more than just controlling my anger about the situation.Viktor kept trying to guide me through doing what was best for Zoya over my desire to demand answers, and it was hard.

Really fucking hard.

I wasn’t used to not doing what I wanted, and even my father and brother couldn’t stop me when I was feeling like this, something that they had struggled with since I’d been young.However, I was learning firsthand that love really did change a man, because instead of going on the killing spree that I really wanted to go on, I was waiting to question Zoya about the details that she’d left out.While my family was behind me getting justice for Zoya, they wanted me to do it smartly, keeping myself out of prison if possible.

So, in a bid to keep myself grounded, once we’d gotten Zoya home, I’d gone to her mother’s house, had retrieved everything that she had packed, then had helped her make herself at home on Martin Street in Bakers Hills.She also hadn’t fought me on it, which had been a good thing when you considered my state of mind at the time, which hadn’t been much better than it was right now.

Now, was I happy to finally have Zoya with me?Of course.Here at home, she was safe.Here with me, no one could hurt her again.Yeah, she was still mourning the loss of her mother, and her injuries had her especially depressed, but she was alive.She was alive, and she had the chance to pick herself up and move past her guilt.Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d ever get over the death of her mother completely, but Zoya was a tough girl, and I had no doubt that she’d find a way to live with it eventually.

I walked into the library, and Zoya was sitting in a chaise lounge that I had specifically purchased for her, and she had a paperback in her hands, and though she looked exhausted, she also looked comfortable, which was a win in my book.

“What are you reading?”

“Your library is made up of mostly classics and thrillers, so I grabbed The Count of Monte Cristo,” she answered tiredly.

“A book about a long, drawn-out revenge,” I remarked as I sat on the chair, pulling her legs over my lap.“Interesting choice.”

“It was that or a bunch of who-dun-its, and I’d rather not fill my head with any of that right now,” she replied, making me want to hit the streets to bloody them up.

“If this was a public library, what kind of book would you be reading right now?”I asked, eager to know everything about her.“And why don’t you have one of those e-reader things?”

“I used to have one,” she admitted.“But when it finally died on me, I couldn’t afford to get a new one.”

I made a mental note to get one for her later today before asking, “So, what’s your favorite genre to read?”

Zoya set the book on her lap, but she kept her middle finger in between the pages, saving her spot in the story.“I like romantasy,” she answered.

“I’m sorry, what?”I chuckled.

“It’s romance, but in a world of fantasy,” she explained.“I like the idea of...something that’s not this world.Of...of something more out there.”

“So, you’re a fan of dragons, warlocks, and faeries?”I teased.

Zoya grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes.“I’m just a fan of possibilities, I guess.”