Twenty Two

I was sitting by the window, watching the rain drizzle down the glass, lost in my thoughts. Arthur was still at the penthouse’s office, caught up in yet another meeting with his team, and I was alone with too much time on my hands. The past few days had been a whirlwind—what with the media circus and all—but things had finally started to calm down. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

I sighed, leaning back in the chair, and let my eyes wander around the room. It was so quiet, too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you start thinking about all the things you’d rather not think about. Like the way Arthur had been more distant lately, how he’d throw himself into work every chance he got, like he was trying to escape something. Or someone.

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. Arthur was just stressed. That’s all it was. After everything that had happened with the press, who wouldn’t be?

But then there was Vladimir.

Even thinking about his name made my skin craw