Ava"You need to move around a little," the doctor says, adjusting his glasses as he scribbles something on his notepad. "Your body is healing well, but staying in bed too long will only make you weaker."I nod, relieved to hear that I no longer have to spend my days confined in this space. The last few days have been nothing but a blur of rest, food I barely tasted and a hovering husband who's spent every waking moment stitched to my side.Not that I was complaining. It was nice having someone fret over me, but I sometimes wished that said someone wasn't a six-foot-four, green-eyed, Russian mafia boss."So, does this mean I can finally go outside?" I ask, failing miserably at hiding my eagerness for my soon-to-be freedom. Who am I kidding? I sounded so damn eager even the doctor noticed. "Yes, Mrs. Volkov, that means you can finally go outside." The doctor says, glancing up from his notepad, lips twitching in amusement.I don’t even try to hide my relief. “Thank God,” I say, pushin
AvaParks, they say, are the one place on earth where even the most caged souls can taste a little bit of freedom.Granted, I have no idea who they are, but surely they must be right because the look I see on Kira's face as she runs through the park—one of the less crowded, more private ones, of course—is one filled with pure excitement.Black curls bounce with the wind as she waves at me, her lips stretched thin and smile wide as she spins around right there in the middle of it all.I wave back at her, my heart full.Getting Nikolai's approval was surprisingly easy.Too easy.I'd expected resistance or, at the very least, his disapproval. But he'd been, surprisingly, willing.I watch Kira chase a butterfly, her giggles mixing with the sound of the other kids in the park and I can't help the warmth that spreads through me at the sight.She looks so happy. Free. The complete opposite of the girl who'd wandered into my studio yesterday.Settling onto the bench, I pull my coat tighter ar
Marcus Blackwood stood in front of the Volkov estate for what might’ve been the third time this week. Fourth, if he counted the time, he barely made it halfway to the gate before turning back.He had stood in front of this gate countless times before, all for business, but now he had come to beg for his life and that of his daughters.The guard at the watch post was the first to notice his presence. This one differed from the last, Marcus noted to himself. While the other guard who’d been here, the last time he mustered up the courage to stand in front of the gate, was tall, this one was short and scruffy. A real rough around the edges sort of guy.“State your name and business.”Marcus cleared his throat. “Blackwood. Marcus Blackwood. I… uh, I’m here to see the boss”The guard narrowed his eyes as if the name left a bitter taste on his tongue, and he was sure it had. In this line of work, nothing was as important as a name. A name commanded respect. It caused uproar and goosebumps in
Marcus felt the weight of those words punch him square in the chest. Guilt gnawed at the edges of his conscience, a cruel reminder of the lives lost in the tangled web of his creation."I didn’t—" he started, but Sergei held up a hand."Spare me your excuses, Marcus" Sergei's voice dropped an octave, cold and cutting. “You know how I despise lies.”He lifted from his seat, using the table as leverage as he straightened to his full height.“Three of my men died because of you.” "I didn’t know—""But you should have." Sergei’s voice was a low growl now. "You had one job — bring me guns. Good guns. And yet you sent my men into battle with weapons you swore would work. Faulty guns, Marcus. You armed my men with death."If this were any other conversation and not one that determined his life or the life of his daughter, Marcus would’ve pointed out how dramatic Sergai was being. He hadn’t known that the guns he’d delivered to the Volkovs would be faulty. He hadn’t anticipated that any of
AvaKira’s birthday arrived sooner than expected, and, for the first time since I arrived at the Volkov mansion, something other than guards filled the halls.Kira wasn’t the only child running around these halls.As promised, Tyler asked Emma’s parents if she could come. It takes a fair amount of convincing on my part, but they eventually agree — but with one condition. They insist on having one of their own personal bodyguards present at the party.I try to reassure them that it isn’t necessary, that the estate was secure and safe but their insistence makes it difficult for me to refuse, Their minds are already made up, and when I tell Nikolai about the arrangement, he isn’t exactly thrilled about the possibility of having someone not on his security team scout his estate for potential threats. Eventually, I get him to change his mind and he allows them to bring one bodyguard. No more.With how insistent Emma’s parents are about not leaving her alone, you’d think they would’ve at le
AvaI wave goodbye to Tyler as she settles Oliver and Emma into the backseat of the sleek black car that came to pick them up. She waves back at me, offering me one last smile before she closes the door. Their car pulls into the driveway, its red taillights glowing in the dim evening light, and I stand there, arms wrapped around myself, watching as it disappears into the night.The living room is empty when I step back in. Kat and Ivan had retired early to bed and Nikolai had gone to put Kira to sleep shortly after I escorted Tyler outside.My footsteps echo off the walls as I make my way to the Kitchen and when I step inside, I drag my gaze along the stacked plates sitting on the sink and the empty glasses right beside it.The party lasted longer than planned; normally, I could easily get a staff member to help clean up, but most were off duty, and those who weren’t were too busy tidying up the party decorations.Seeing no other option — or maybe I was just looking for a distraction
AvaWhen my phone chimes in my pocket, alerting me of a notification three days later, my entire body goes numb as I stare at the words on my screen that seem to drown out the careless chatter all around the hallway.It’s a text.But it’s not just any text, no, it’s the kind of text you don’t expect to get on a warm Tuesday afternoon after trudging back and forth between classes all morning. It is also the kind of text that makes my heart stop beating in my chest and nausea rolls through me, twisting my gut painfully.Unknown: We need to talk. Meet me at the cafe on the 5th. Tell no one. Love Dad.My grip tightens around my phone and a chill runs down my spine, curling at the end as I reread the words displayed on my phone screen.It wasn’t a normal text message a daughter hoped to get from her runaway father after he disappeared for two months. It didn’t hold any hint of casualty, or at the very least, formality. It was cold, straight to the point and if it weren’t for the last two w
AvaMy mother had a saying. The world is an unpredictable place.It was a generic saying. One I knew that she was not the first to say but one she repeated often enough for me to align the saying with her name.However, it isn't until this very moment that I understand why she said it so often.I spot him before he sees me. He’s seated in one of the seats at the far end of the cafe which was partially covered by one of the dim lights of the cafe and a red brick wall that shielded more than half of his body from the window opposite from him.The world was indeed an unpredictable place, I realized for the second time in the last ten minutes.One minute, I'm prancing between classes, wondering what’s the difference between Renaissance and Baroque art, and the next, I'm inches away from the man, who’d been my only parental figure for more than half of my life.The seat he’d chosen was tucked away within the shadows of the restaurant and despite the movements of the staff, one still had a
AvaMy mother had a saying. The world is an unpredictable place.It was a generic saying. One I knew that she was not the first to say but one she repeated often enough for me to align the saying with her name.However, it isn't until this very moment that I understand why she said it so often.I spot him before he sees me. He’s seated in one of the seats at the far end of the cafe which was partially covered by one of the dim lights of the cafe and a red brick wall that shielded more than half of his body from the window opposite from him.The world was indeed an unpredictable place, I realized for the second time in the last ten minutes.One minute, I'm prancing between classes, wondering what’s the difference between Renaissance and Baroque art, and the next, I'm inches away from the man, who’d been my only parental figure for more than half of my life.The seat he’d chosen was tucked away within the shadows of the restaurant and despite the movements of the staff, one still had a
AvaWhen my phone chimes in my pocket, alerting me of a notification three days later, my entire body goes numb as I stare at the words on my screen that seem to drown out the careless chatter all around the hallway.It’s a text.But it’s not just any text, no, it’s the kind of text you don’t expect to get on a warm Tuesday afternoon after trudging back and forth between classes all morning. It is also the kind of text that makes my heart stop beating in my chest and nausea rolls through me, twisting my gut painfully.Unknown: We need to talk. Meet me at the cafe on the 5th. Tell no one. Love Dad.My grip tightens around my phone and a chill runs down my spine, curling at the end as I reread the words displayed on my phone screen.It wasn’t a normal text message a daughter hoped to get from her runaway father after he disappeared for two months. It didn’t hold any hint of casualty, or at the very least, formality. It was cold, straight to the point and if it weren’t for the last two w
AvaI wave goodbye to Tyler as she settles Oliver and Emma into the backseat of the sleek black car that came to pick them up. She waves back at me, offering me one last smile before she closes the door. Their car pulls into the driveway, its red taillights glowing in the dim evening light, and I stand there, arms wrapped around myself, watching as it disappears into the night.The living room is empty when I step back in. Kat and Ivan had retired early to bed and Nikolai had gone to put Kira to sleep shortly after I escorted Tyler outside.My footsteps echo off the walls as I make my way to the Kitchen and when I step inside, I drag my gaze along the stacked plates sitting on the sink and the empty glasses right beside it.The party lasted longer than planned; normally, I could easily get a staff member to help clean up, but most were off duty, and those who weren’t were too busy tidying up the party decorations.Seeing no other option — or maybe I was just looking for a distraction
AvaKira’s birthday arrived sooner than expected, and, for the first time since I arrived at the Volkov mansion, something other than guards filled the halls.Kira wasn’t the only child running around these halls.As promised, Tyler asked Emma’s parents if she could come. It takes a fair amount of convincing on my part, but they eventually agree — but with one condition. They insist on having one of their own personal bodyguards present at the party.I try to reassure them that it isn’t necessary, that the estate was secure and safe but their insistence makes it difficult for me to refuse, Their minds are already made up, and when I tell Nikolai about the arrangement, he isn’t exactly thrilled about the possibility of having someone not on his security team scout his estate for potential threats. Eventually, I get him to change his mind and he allows them to bring one bodyguard. No more.With how insistent Emma’s parents are about not leaving her alone, you’d think they would’ve at le
Marcus felt the weight of those words punch him square in the chest. Guilt gnawed at the edges of his conscience, a cruel reminder of the lives lost in the tangled web of his creation."I didn’t—" he started, but Sergei held up a hand."Spare me your excuses, Marcus" Sergei's voice dropped an octave, cold and cutting. “You know how I despise lies.”He lifted from his seat, using the table as leverage as he straightened to his full height.“Three of my men died because of you.” "I didn’t know—""But you should have." Sergei’s voice was a low growl now. "You had one job — bring me guns. Good guns. And yet you sent my men into battle with weapons you swore would work. Faulty guns, Marcus. You armed my men with death."If this were any other conversation and not one that determined his life or the life of his daughter, Marcus would’ve pointed out how dramatic Sergai was being. He hadn’t known that the guns he’d delivered to the Volkovs would be faulty. He hadn’t anticipated that any of
Marcus Blackwood stood in front of the Volkov estate for what might’ve been the third time this week. Fourth, if he counted the time, he barely made it halfway to the gate before turning back.He had stood in front of this gate countless times before, all for business, but now he had come to beg for his life and that of his daughters.The guard at the watch post was the first to notice his presence. This one differed from the last, Marcus noted to himself. While the other guard who’d been here, the last time he mustered up the courage to stand in front of the gate, was tall, this one was short and scruffy. A real rough around the edges sort of guy.“State your name and business.”Marcus cleared his throat. “Blackwood. Marcus Blackwood. I… uh, I’m here to see the boss”The guard narrowed his eyes as if the name left a bitter taste on his tongue, and he was sure it had. In this line of work, nothing was as important as a name. A name commanded respect. It caused uproar and goosebumps in
AvaParks, they say, are the one place on earth where even the most caged souls can taste a little bit of freedom.Granted, I have no idea who they are, but surely they must be right because the look I see on Kira's face as she runs through the park—one of the less crowded, more private ones, of course—is one filled with pure excitement.Black curls bounce with the wind as she waves at me, her lips stretched thin and smile wide as she spins around right there in the middle of it all.I wave back at her, my heart full.Getting Nikolai's approval was surprisingly easy.Too easy.I'd expected resistance or, at the very least, his disapproval. But he'd been, surprisingly, willing.I watch Kira chase a butterfly, her giggles mixing with the sound of the other kids in the park and I can't help the warmth that spreads through me at the sight.She looks so happy. Free. The complete opposite of the girl who'd wandered into my studio yesterday.Settling onto the bench, I pull my coat tighter ar
Ava"You need to move around a little," the doctor says, adjusting his glasses as he scribbles something on his notepad. "Your body is healing well, but staying in bed too long will only make you weaker."I nod, relieved to hear that I no longer have to spend my days confined in this space. The last few days have been nothing but a blur of rest, food I barely tasted and a hovering husband who's spent every waking moment stitched to my side.Not that I was complaining. It was nice having someone fret over me, but I sometimes wished that said someone wasn't a six-foot-four, green-eyed, Russian mafia boss."So, does this mean I can finally go outside?" I ask, failing miserably at hiding my eagerness for my soon-to-be freedom. Who am I kidding? I sounded so damn eager even the doctor noticed. "Yes, Mrs. Volkov, that means you can finally go outside." The doctor says, glancing up from his notepad, lips twitching in amusement.I don’t even try to hide my relief. “Thank God,” I say, pushin
AvaI need to pee.Nikolai's sound asleep by my side, his heavy arm draped over my waist pinning me to the mattress. If I weren't so fully cautious of the warmth of his body against mine, I'd think I was trapped in a cage or better yet, that I still had a fever.But my fever broke a while ago, leaving my husband as the only cause of the inexplicable burning sensation shimmering just beneath the surface of my skin.I try sitting up, but my bones feel like they've been crushed by a bag of cement, and my muscles are fatigued. Nikolai's weight wasn't making it any easier for me to wiggle into a sitting position.Ugh, why is he so heavy?He's solid, unmoving, like a big boulder in the middle of the wilderness, completely unaware of my predicament.The room was still dark but the curtains had been drawn sometime earlier, so I guess it didn't count. I wonder what time it is.I try to move out of his grasp again, but every time I think I might've made some level of progress, Nikolai manages