Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
I keep my reply short with the hope it won’t display my heartache. “Okay.”
I shouldn’t have bothered to hide my disappointment. Even the briskness of my reply can’t conceal my devastation. I’m not solely upset about losing Mikhail. I am shattered by the words I must speak next for the sake of a child I will most likely never meet.
“Goodbye, Andrik.”
Glass smashing sounds out of Mikhail’s apartment as I rush out the door and into the corridor. When multiple jabs of the call button fail to open the elevator doors, I toss open the emergency exit stairwell door and then commence a multiple-floor descent. I don’t give up this time. I need sweat to hide the tears streaming down my face. Otherwise I will break the only promise I’ve ever made to myself.
I’ll never cry over a man who doesn’t want me for me.
“Hey.”
I curse myself to hell when Ano greets me with a grin in the foyer of Nikita’s building. My visit to Chelabini had a dual purpose. I was meant to check in on Mikhail before making a dreaded trip home so I could see if Stasy had kept Aleena’s Polaroid camera as stocked with film as she did mine during my teenage years.
I wanted to back up my claims that Ano is Bayli with physical proof, but I was so upset after my exchange with Andrik, I drove straight home.
I must have gotten a hundred fines because the speedometer barely dipped below a hundred.
“Are you all right?” Ano asks, eyeing me suspiciously. It is understandable. I also gave him the line that I was going home to help Aleena with her wedding. “You’re looking a little frazzled.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
He laughs before banding his arm around my shoulders and noogying my hair. That’s how tall he is. He doesn’t even need to stretch to balance his chin on the top of my head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just figured I’d ease you into asking how much elevator rocking you were subjected to. But since you seem to like it dry and hard, I’ll just ask. How perverted are you, princess?”
“Call me princess again and you’ll find out.” I squash my finger to his lips before the “p” of princess leaves his mouth. “And what elevator rocking?”
“You missed it?” He blows out a hot breath. “I guess I’ll bunk with you tonight. You may be the only one saved from his wrath when he learns her moans could be heard from down here.”
“He?” I ask, lost.
“Maksim and Doc,” he answers like I’m slow. “They made up.” I smile, happy. “And they’ve been hogging the elevator for”—my smirk grows when he checks his imaginary Rolex—“long enough that if Doc charges by the hour, Maksim is gonna wish he had taken out premium health coverage.” He nudges his head to the conference. “His four p.m. has also been here for over an hour.”
“Did you tell Maksim he has a guest waiting?”
When Ano shakes his head like my suggestion is insane, I whack him.
“What? You can’t seriously expect me to interrupt Maksim when he’s…” He makes a gesture I am extremely proud of. “You may survive that shit, but I sure as hell won’t.”
“You’re such a chicken shit.” Says the lady who hasn’t told him about our possible connection because I’m terrified my mother is responsible for the assault that stole his memories. “Where are they?”
“In the elevator. Duh.”
I roll my eyes before entering the security office to advise Maksim of his appointment. My brisk pace slows when I spot a Post-it note stuck to the front of my planner. It has a date two weeks from now and a location scribbled across it, but no other details.
“What is this?” I ask anyone listening.
Two guards shrug before a third one pops up. “The caller didn’t leave any details. He just wanted me to tell you that that is the date.” He emphasizes “the” like it should mean something.
“The date?” My heart whacks my chest when the fog clears enough for me to understand the cryptic message. “The date. This”—I wiggle the Post-it note in the air—“is the date.”
When he nods, I stumble back.
My baby sister is getting married in two weeks, and my invite came in the form of a Post-it note.
I guess it is better than no invitation at all.
60
ANDRIK
My jaw flexes as I tug on the stupid designer tie choking me. Its hold is as firm as my hands are itching to compress around Mikhail’s throat. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t made contact. Even with me trying to push him away throughout our adolescent years, this is the longest we’ve been out of contact.
I was pretty fucking adamant when I let everyone go that I’d break his legs if he didn’t give me some space, but I was strung out, drunk, and fairly certain I wouldn’t see out the week breathing.