7. Elena
The door opens behind me right as I fasten the second earring into my lobe. My eyes lift to the mirror, and there he is, a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette filling the doorway. My breath stutters. My hands fall from my ears to my waist, useless now, as every part of me focuses on him.
Alexei’s gaze sweeps slowly down my body, deliberate and heated, before traveling back up to meet mine in the mirror.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice warm and thick with emotion.
Heat blooms across my cheeks because he means it, every word.
No one has ever made me feel as wanted as Alexei does.
It never matters what I’m wearing—my favorite jeans and sneakers or the dress I have on now—the way he stares at me makes it seem as if I elevate the outfit, not the other way around.
I take a final turn toward the mirror. My makeup is simple, from the foundation to blush, soft brown eyeshadow, and a lipstick that brings out the warm tones in my eyes.
I would have much preferred something casual, but then queens don’t do casual.
The world comments on what I wear before I step out of my palace.
Still, I won’t dress like a stiff, polished mannequin for the sake of tradition.
Tonight, I selected a dress Hannah and I came up with during my last fitting, a fitted bodice of rich black fading into warm browns that highlight my hair and eyes: a sweetheart neckline, delicate cap sleeves.
The skirt flares out at mid-thigh with a vintage touch that feels like me, not the monarchy.
I would’ve worn flats, but Hannah insisted on heels, claiming my legs are “criminally good” in them.
Judging by how Alexei’s eyes drop back to my legs, she’s not wrong.
He crosses the room in seconds, spins me around, and pulls me flush against him. Then he dips his head—he always has to bend down a little with our height difference—and kisses me.
Alexei’s confidence has always been one of the most intoxicating things about him. The way he touches me, the way he holds me… I melt every time.
He pulls back only when my lashes flutter open. That yearning in his eyes, desire mirrored right back at me, sends heat spiraling through my chest.
His mouth is tinted with my lipstick. I swipe my thumb over his lower lip. “I think you messed up my makeup,” I tease.
His voice drops, rough and deep. “It was worth it.”
A delicious shiver travels through me. When he talks like that, the thickness of his accent deepens, the version of him only I get to hear.
His arms tighten around my waist. “I’m torn about going out tonight.”
I try to lean back, but he keeps me firmly against him. “Why?”
His lips brush my cheek before trailing toward my ear, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Because if we go out, I’m going to spend the whole evening glaring at any man who dares look at you. I’d rather keep you to myself.”
A smile tugs at my lips as I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “You’re not the only one who’ll be defending their territory. Hungry ladies will be circling you like wolves.”
My fingers smooth his dark blue suit jacket, matching the cobalt of his eyes.
He grins. “I don’t notice them.” His voice softens. “I only have eyes for you.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning like a schoolgirl. “Good answer, husband.”
He kisses my cheek, lingering. “Just the truth,” he murmurs. “My wife.”
Warmth rushes through me so fast it’s almost dizzying. “If you keep this up, we won’t make it to our date.”
His lips curve against my skin. “Good.”
It takes every ounce of self-control that I possess to pull back. I laugh despite his groan of protest. “I promised Hannah and Braydon we’d go.”
His hands fall from my waist. I swallow the disappointment. His touch is addictive, once I feel it, all I want is more.
“That’s one of the things I love about you,” he says. “You never break a promise.”
I smile. “Never have, and I don’t plan to start now.”
Alexei crosses to the wardrobe, opening the wood panel to expose the keypad. The soft beeps echo through the room as he opens the safe. Not much lives in there: our marriage license, small gifts, spare IDs for emergencies, and a weapon.
He retrieves the smaller gun, closes the safe, and walks over to the bed to secure it in his ankle holster.
I arch a brow. “Expecting trouble?”
He smooths his pant leg back down. “Just taking extra precautions.”
He doesn’t need to explain. His eyes tell me it all.
In case Wendell comes for us.
“Do you think he’s still here? That he will come tonight?”
His expression hardens. He crosses to me in two strides, arms wrapping around my waist like a shield. “I won’t take any chances with your safety.”
I search his face. “Did you learn anything new?”
“We’ve ruled out Lady Camille for now. But we’ll keep watching her.”
Relief loosens something in my chest. I may not like Lady Camille, but I’d rather she weren’t involved in this mess, too.
“Anything else?” I ask, too quickly.
His brow arches. Of course, he catches it. “Should there be anything else?”
I step out of his embrace, drawing in a slow breath. He notices. His lips tighten, his shoulders sag. “I know you’re keeping something from me. I overheard you and Fletcher talking.” I turn to face him fully now. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His jaw flexes. His eyes dart, rubbing the back of his neck. “He left a note. In his cell. A message saying he’d see us soon.”
I inhale sharply, the sting of betrayal flaring. I suspected, but to hear it hurts.
“How could you not tell me that?” I demand.
His throat works as he swallows. “Like you told me about your vision in the cell?”
My eyes snap up to his. And the second I see the shift in his expression, I know. I’ve given myself away. He wasn’t certain, not until now.
“That is why Zoe is here, isn’t it?” he asks.
I wince, sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands twisted in my lap. “We promised no secrets,” I whisper.
Alexei sits beside me, his leg warm against mine. “We did,” he says gently. “But it’s not easy for me, Elena. When I hear someone wants to hurt you… the only thing I can think about is ending the threat. No matter the cost.”
I lace my fingers with his. “The cost is too great if it pulls us apart… or if you do it alone.”
Slowly, he exhales. “I don’t know how to be okay with you putting yourself in danger.”
I raise his chin so that he has no choice but to meet my eyes. “The same way I have to. We trust each other. We do this together.”
The fear still clings to him, I see it. I know it. I carry the same demons.
His forehead rests against mine. “What did you see in the cell, Elena?”
I sigh. I can’t ask for honesty if I refuse to give it.
“I don’t know exactly,” I tell him. “Fragments. Enough to confirm Wendell is after us. Zoe’s here to help me make sense of them. And… the fact that I could get them on my own? That’s progress.”
“What kind of clues?” he asks.
I chew my lip and tell him. Everything. His arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me into the safety of his side.
“You’ve had worse visions,” he reminds me softly. He kisses my forehead. “And we changed our fate then.”
My arms wrap tightly around his waist. He’s right. I saw him die. And he didn’t. We changed everything.
“We did,” I whisper.
He tilts my chin up until our eyes lock. “I won’t lose you. You mean everything to me.”
My lips curve into a soft smile. “You mean everything to me, too.”
He leans over and presses his lips against the top of my head. I let myself breathe for a minute.
A sharp knock interrupts us, followed by the door flying open. Hannah stands in the doorway with her hands over her eyes. “You’re late. Tell me you’re decent. You’re decent, right?”
I laugh.
“If we said no, would you leave?” growls Alexei.
“Nope,” Hannah says brightly, peeking between her fingers.
Braydon appears behind her, looking slightly sick. “I told her not to?—”
“Hey!” Hannah elbows him sharply. “Way to sell me out.”
Braydon smirks. “I would’ve bailed you out.”
Hannah beams at him, and I swear I can practically see floating hearts.
Alexei clears his throat.
“Come on,” Hannah scolds. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
I lean in and whisper to Alexei, “Trust me, you don’t want to get between Hannah and food.”
He whispers back, “Don’t worry, Elena; I will always throw myself in front of you.”
His tone is playful, but the promise underneath it is real. And fierce. And entirely him.
Hannah raises her wine glass, innocence dripping off her smile far too deliberately. “Did I ever tell you the time El got caught sneaking out of the orphanage?”
I choke on my sip of wine, and a drop escapes, sliding down my chin.
Fantastic.
Across the table, Braydon’s mouth falls open, and his eyes light up with amusement. Alexei’s lips curve in a knowing, traitorous smile.
Heat crawls up the back of my neck, and I’m suddenly grateful for the cool night breeze rolling through the bistro’s open patio.
The newest bistro in Zurdonia is just the kind of place I envisioned when starting the small business expansion program: rustic, inviting, full of character.
Deep, rich wood grain lines the walls; black iron chairs frame each table; and climbing vines spill from hanging pots, cascading down like green waterfalls.
Warm amber lights glow overhead, casting everything in a buttery softness.
Somewhere beneath the chatter and clinking glasses, soft jazz hums. It is like a corner stolen from an Italian village.
Alexei would have preferred a table inside, somewhere his men could control every angle, but tonight I just wanted to feel like any other woman on a date with her husband and friends.
“That does fit with my wife’s antics,” Alexei murmurs.
I mock-pout. “Rude.”
Braydon leans back, reaching for his ale and taking a long, slow pull. “What I want to know is how you got caught.”
“It wasn’t the sneaking out that got her caught—” Hannah raises her glass as if she is going to make a toast, “—it was the sneaking back in.”