Chapter 36 Olivia
OLIVIA
For the first time in days, I feel like I can actually breathe.
Is the light streaming through the windows more golden today, or is that just me?
Are the birds more chipper, or am I imagining things?
It’s like all the color has been added back into the world.
The smile on my face refuses to go away.
Because things changed last night. Stefan told me the truth about Mikayla last night. He said he loves me last night. Last night, we sat by that lake and talked about our future as if it was something real and tangible instead of a fantasy I’ve been too afraid to reach for.
I turn my head to look at him. He’s still asleep, his face calm and smooth in a way it never is when he’s awake. The hard edges soften. The tension in his jaw eases. He looks younger like this. Almost peaceful.
Not quite, but almost.
I trace a finger along his collarbone along the edge of one of his tattoos. He stirs but doesn’t wake. That little sigh that passes through his perfect lips makes my smile tick one notch wider.
Carefully, I wriggle out from under his arm and sneak across the room to the bathroom. Like Stefan, my face looks a little more at ease in the mirror this morning. And that smile… what a silly, stupid, beautiful thing that is.
I brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and try to ignore the small voice in the back of my mind that whispers about Mikayla locked in the basement below us.
Stefan was right to keep her down there. She tried to hurt me. She sabotaged my clinic. She’s dangerous.
But still… The thought of her trapped in the dark while I sleep in silk sheets and wake up to ocean views makes my stomach twist.
I push the thought away and head to the closet. My swimsuit is hanging where I left it yesterday. I’m thinking of going for a morning dip. The water will help clear my head. It always does.
I change quickly, pulling my hair into a messy bun. When I emerge from the bathroom, Stefan is sitting up in bed, watching me.
“Going somewhere?” His voice has that husky-from-sleep quality, which ought to be regulated by the FDA or something, because it’s an insanely potent aphrodisiac.
“Just for a swim,” I say.
He stretches and yawns. The motion makes the sheet fall to his waist, revealing abs, chest hair, more things that really need to be carefully doled out so they don’t overwhelm a poor, lovesick girl like me. “Want company?”
“I thought I’d go alone this morning. Clear my head a little.”
His brow furrows. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitate. “About Mikayla.”
That’s all it takes to suck the sexy energy right out of the air. “Olivia—”
“I know. I know she’s dangerous and that she tried to hurt me.” I cross to the bed and sit on the edge so I can be close to him. “But it’s hard not to think about her down there.”
“She made her choices,” he snarls.
“I know that, too.” I reach for his hand. “I’m not saying you should let her go. I’m just saying it’s complicated.”
He studies my face. “You’re too good for this world.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“It is when people like Mikayla exist.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Promise me you won’t go down there.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me, Olivia,” he repeats sternly.
“I promise.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods. “Alright. Go swim. I’ll make breakfast.”
I kiss him quickly and head for the door.
“And cover up!” he yells after me. “Your ass in that swimsuit is for my eyes only. If any of my guards see you… Blyat’, she’s going to be the death of me…”
I giggle, give him a little hip-shimmy-slash-booty-shake for good measure, then step out.
The hallway is quiet. Most of the house is still asleep. I make my way down the stairs and through the kitchen, grabbing a towel from the linen closet on my way out.
Like the rest of the house, the pool deck is empty. The water glows delightfully turquoise in the morning light. I drop my towel on a lounge chair and dive in.
The cold hits me like a shock, but a good one. I surface, gasping, and start swimming laps. One, two, three. The rhythm soothes me. The repetitive motion clears my mind.
I’m halfway through my tenth lap when my phone starts ringing from where I left it with my towel. I haul myself out of the pool and grab it, water dripping onto the deck and pooling around my feet. The screen shows an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” I say cautiously.
“Dr. Aster? This is Dr. Heller from Mass Gen.”
I straighten. “Dr. Heller! Hi.”
“I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“Not at all. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m actually calling because I heard from Ms. Genevieve.”
My heart stutters and skips. “You did?”
“She reached out yesterday evening. I passed along your message like you asked.”
“Oh! That’s— Wow. And?”
“She said she’s willing to speak with you, but she’s traveling quite a bit right now. She gave me a number where you can reach her at a specific time today.”
I grab my towel and wrap it around myself. “What time?”
“10:00 A.M. Eastern. She was very specific about that.”
I glance at my phone. It’s eight-thirty now. “Okay. What’s the number?” She rattles it off and I commit it to memory. “Dr. Heller, thank you. This means a lot.”
“Of course. Good luck, Dr. Aster. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
She hangs up and I stare at the phone in my hand. Natalia wants to talk to me. I should tell Stefan. I should go upstairs right now and let him know.
But something stops me.
If I tell him, he’ll try to stop the call. He’ll give me the obvious lecture: it’s dangerous, she can’t be trusted, I’m putting myself at risk, blah blah.
And maybe he’s right.
But I need to hear what she has to say. I need to understand her side of this story. If he won’t listen to her, I’ll have to do it for both of us. He said I’m too good for this world and that he’s too dark for it.
But what if the truth is somewhere in the middle? What if there’s a happy ending to all this bloodshed and madness that doesn’t require more lives to be lost?
If there is, I owe it to everyone—to Stefan, to Natalia, to myself, and to my baby most of all—to find that way through the woods.
I swore an oath to protect lives, after all. I meant it then. I still mean it now.
So I wrap the towel tighter around myself and go back inside.
Stefan is in the kitchen when I get there, true to his word. He’s standing at the stove, scrambling eggs. The smell of coffee fills the air.
“That was fast,” he says without turning around.
“I…”
Got a phone call is on the tip of my tongue. Honesty has been such a hard thing for us. Even now, I want so badly to commit to it. But I can’t. I just can’t.
“… got a cramp,” I say instead. “Guess I’m a little out of shape.”
He turns to look me up and down and grins. “I’d say you’re in exactly the right shape, in my opinion.”
I laugh and flick the wet corner of my towel at his ass. “Someone’s in rare horndog form this morning,” I say.
“It’s your fault,” he retorts. “If you didn’t look and smell that good, maybe I’d be able to keep my hands and eyes to myself. As it is… Well, you saw the outcome last night.”
My face goes beet-red as sex flashbacks hit me like a ten-car pile-up. “Are you just gonna flirt with me, or are you actually gonna feed me?” I sass back.
Right on cue, he hands me a plate piled high with toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. “Ask and ye shall receive.” He makes me kiss him before I get my food, not that I mind that too much.
I settle at the kitchen island with my plate and watch Stefan move around the kitchen, cleaning up and wiping down the counters.
“This is really good,” I say after the first bite of eggs. “Though you shouldn’t get a big head about it or anything.”
“Me? Big head? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the humblest man I know.” He smiles and takes a sip of coffee. “What do you want to do today?”
I pause with a forkful of eggs halfway to my mouth. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“We could go into the city. Get lunch somewhere. Walk around.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Or we could stay here. Swim. Watch a movie. Do absolutely nothing.”
I smile. “That sounds nice, too.”
“Very helpful, Dr. Aster.”
I laugh and chew my bacon obnoxiously in his direction. “You’re the boss, Mr. Safonov. You decide what to do with me.”
His eyes twinkle. “Keep dirty talking like that and you and I are going right back to the bedroom.”
We keep chattering as I eat, but my eyes stray to the clock on the microwave again and again. Even as the morning brightens and Boston comes to life and everything feels domestic and happy and sunlit and perfect, the pit of my stomach drops ever lower.
Nine-fifteen.
Nine-twenty-five.
Nine-fifty.
My stomach twists. I push the last scraps of my eggs around my plate.
“You okay?” Stefan asks.
“Yeah. Just full.” I set my fork down. “That was a lot of food.”
“You barely ate half.”
“I’m smaller than you.”
He studies me skeptically. I force myself to meet his eyes and smile.
“I’m fine. Really.” I stand and carry my plate to the sink. “I think I’m just a little more tired than I first realized. Last night was… a lot.”
His scowl eases up by degrees. “Yeah. It was.”
I rinse my plate and load it into the dishwasher. My hands are shaking slightly. I hope he doesn’t notice.
“I might go lie down for a bit,” I say. “Take a nap.”
“If you want, I could come with and—”
“No, I’m okay. You should do whatever you need to do today. Don’t let me hold you back.”
He stands and crosses to me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. His chin rests on my shoulder. “Nothing is more important than you,” he murmurs.
The guilt eats at me. “I know,” I whisper.
He kisses my neck, then releases me. “Go rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”
I nod and head for the stairs, forcing myself not to run.
In the bedroom, I close the door and lean against it. My heart is pounding.
Nine-fifty-seven. Three minutes.