Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Rose Garden
Spring arrived in Lake Forest, melting the snow into slush that drained into Lake Michigan.
With the changing season came an uneasy quiet. The Bertinelli family in New York had officially sent condolences for the “unfortunate passing” of Ilya Kazlov, feigning complete ignorance of the cyanide attempt. But Alexei was not a fool. He knew that when an assassin fails, the second attempt is never poisoned candy—it is blunt, total slaughter.
One afternoon, Maria was sitting on a stone bench in the estate's private courtyard, watching Sophie plant plastic flowers into the dirt beside Alexei’s prize-winning hybrid tea roses.
Alexei walked down the gravel path, wearing a dark wool overcoat, hands tucked into his pockets. For the first time in months, he walked without a bodyguard trailing three feet behind.
“She has your eyes,” Alexei observed, stopping beside Maria’s bench.
Maria looked up, her heart giving a nervous flutter. Alexei rarely spoke to her about personal matters. Their interactions were polite, guarded, defined by his immense authority and her persistent deference.
“She has her father’s stubbornness,” Maria answered honestly.
Alexei’s eyes flickered. “Where is he?”
“He left three weeks after she was born,” Maria said, keeping her voice level. “He said he wasn't built for diapers and crying. He took my savings and vanished to Phoenix. I haven't heard from him since.”
Alexei looked down at Sophie, who was now carefully bandaging a broken rose stem with pink medical tape. “A coward. A man who abandons his blood has no honor. If he ever returns to claim her, tell me. I will have him dissolved in acid.”
Maria couldn't help a dry, nervous laugh. “You say that so casually, Mr. Petrov.”
“I do not make jokes about family,” Alexei said, sitting down on the opposite end of the stone bench. He smelled of cedarwood, tobacco, and clean rain. “You saved me that day too, Maria. You knew how to pull that capsule without crushing it. Where did you learn that?”
Maria tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Before Sophie was born, I was in my third year of nursing school at UIC. When her father ran off with our money, I couldn't pay tuition. Housekeeping was the only job that paid cash under the table and allowed me to keep her close.”
Alexei was silent for a long moment. He watched Sophie humming a nursery rhyme while tying another piece of tape around the rosebush.
“Tomorrow, you will register for classes,” Alexei stated.
Maria gasped. “What?”
“UIC. Rush University. Northwestern. Wherever you wish,” Alexei continued, his tone smooth as silk. “Your tuition is paid. A driver will take you to your clinicals. You will finish your degree, Maria. A woman with hands that steady should not be scrubbing toilets.”
“Alexei... I can’t take more from you,” she whispered, using his first name for the first time without realizing it. “You’ve already given us a palace.”
Alexei turned his head. His dark eyes searched her face with an intensity that made her breath stall in her throat.
“You gave me tomorrow,” he said, his voice dropping into a dark, intimate murmur. “A palace is cheap compared to that.”
Before Maria could speak, a sharp crack echoed across the rose garden.
Not thunder.
May you like
The distinct, supersonic snap of a high-caliber sniper rifle round.
The stone bench between Maria and Alexei exploded into fragments of limestone.
