The sunlight sneaks in through the boutique’s huge windows, throwing a cozy glow over the fancy clothes within. Elena and I are strolling through the place, arms linked, pretending everything’s normal for a minute. It’d taken some serious convincing for Luk to let me out of the house, and only on the condition that a pair of hulking bodyguards accompany Elena and me.
But even with our giggles and the sound of hangers clicking, there’s still a feeling hovering over me like a shadow, one that’s been tailing me ever since I became Maura Ivanova.
Elena doesn’t know that I’m using part of our outing to sneak off to see Frank, the lawyer. I feel guilty for not looping her in, but it’s something I must do alone.
“He’s just worried that you could be hurt again,” Elena says. Her voice cuts into my thoughts, her tone breezy in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Luk’s not trying to be controlling. He’s genuinely concerned about you.”
I run my fingers over a silky baby blue dress. It feels as if it’s made of water. “Yes, I know he’s not trying to be a dictator or anything like that,” I say, the words tasting sour. “I just hate feeling caged in, even if the cage is a really nice one.”
Elena grabs a satin scarf, wraps it around her neck, and looks at me past her reflection in a mirror. “The more he cares, the more he’s going to worry, and the more he worries, the tighter he’s going to hold on.”
There’s a beat where her words truly sink in. I’ve seen the way Luk looks at me, all tender and gentle-like, a total 180 from the tough guy he shows the rest of the world. “I only wish he could understand that I need a bit of space, a chance to breathe,” I half-whisper, talking to myself more than Elena.
Elena faces me; her expression is serious. “He understands more than you think. But every time you head out that door, it’s like his world stops. Don’t you see? It’s not about keeping you on a leash. It’s about something happening to you, Maura. It’s a fear that he can’t overcome.”
That’s when it hits me how deep Luk’s affection reaches, an affection that would start wars or burn down cities just to keep me safe. I can see how scared he is, and I understand now how far he’d go to protect me.
“We’re going to figure this out,” Elena says, her voice gentle and sure. “Together, we’ll show him you can be both safe and free.”
Her words help smooth over the rough spots in my heart. As we keep shopping, letting the laughter creep back in, I start to feel a bit of hope. Maybe she’s right; maybe there is a way to balance safety and freedom. Maybe Luk and I can walk this tricky path side by side, replaceing our way back to each other along the way.
In a heartbeat, Elena’s vibe shifts from sisterly advice-giver to chief fun coordinator. “You know what? Let’s take a breather from this shopping marathon. I’m starving, and I bet you are, too,” she declares, her eyes looking for an escape route from the endless sea of luxury goods.
Grateful for the distraction, I nod eagerly. “Food sounds amazing right now.”
We weave our way out of the boutique, laughter and light banter leading us down the Miracle Mile. The street is buzzing with energy, a symphony of honking cars, chattering pedestrians, and the distant hum of music. It feels good to be out here, away from the stuffiness of high-end shops, breathing in the city’s vibrant, spirited life.
Elena points ahead, her excitement tangible. “There! That place has the cutest little outdoor seating.”
We snag a table outside, the mild breeze a pleasant companion to our meal. As we peruse the menu, I can’t help but feel a wave of gratitude for Elena’s presence. She’s a breath of fresh air, pulling me out of the spiral of worry and anxiety that’s become my norm. I’m so comfortable and having so much fun that I can almost ignore the huge, suited bodyguards posted nearby. Almost.
Elena’s enthusiasm for the menu manages to distract me for a moment. “The quiche here is legendary,” she insists, her eyes sparkling with the kind of excitement usually reserved for major life events, and I can’t help but smile. I nod, trying to muster the same level of enthusiasm while my brain is doing mental gymnastics, planning my escape to see Frank Dreschel. I need to play this just right.
The moment I start to relax, thinking I might actually pull it off, my stomach decides to betray me. It’s like a sudden squall at sea—calm one minute, turbulent the next. I clamp my mouth shut, willing the nausea to pass.
Elena’s sharp, and nothing gets past her. My feeble attempt at covering the nausea is a complete failure. “Are you all right?” she asks, searching my face, her expression one of legitimate concern.
I force a laugh, hoping it sounds more convincing than it feels. “Absolutely,” I lie through my teeth. “I guess my stomach didn’t get the memo about today’s caffeine limit.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but it’s all I’ve got, and seeing as we stopped for coffee before shopping, I hoped it would suffice.
Without missing a beat, Elena switches into full-on protective mode. “Okay, that’s it. We’re going for the ginger tea. And how about a salad? Something light and simple,” she decides, signaling the waiter. I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving her, even if it’s for a good cause. “Ginger tea sounds perfect,” I concede, grateful for the change of subject and the reprieve it offers from the unease churning in my belly.
But as we enjoy our drinks, part of me is still plotting, still scheming. I need to see Frank Dreschel delve into the mystery of my father’s will without tipping off Luk or anyone else to my plans. The thought of sneaking around behind Elena’s back gnaws at me, but I remind myself it’s for the greater good.
Lunch continues with an easy flow, but I feel an underlying tension, like Elena’s playing detective, piecing together clues I didn’t even know I was dropping. Her next move catches me off guard, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “How about we celebrate your grand day out with some bubbly?” she suggests, her tone casual but her gaze sharp.
My stomach tenses. “Actually, I think I’ll pass on the champagne,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the panic setting in.
Elena leans back, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “A-ha!” she exclaims, her expression one of triumph and warmth. My gut does a nosedive. Somehow, without me saying a word, Elena’s figured it out. The realization that I’m not as slick as I thought sends a jolt of anxiety through me. How did she know? What gave me away? My mind races through our conversation, trying to pinpoint the moment my secret slipped through the cracks.
But as I sit there, frozen in place, Elena’s reaction is far from what I expected. There’s no judgment, no interrogation. Instead, there’s a feeling of understanding, of sisterhood.
“Go on,” she says with a smile. “Admit it.”
A heavy moment hangs between us until, at last, I let out a resigned sigh, the secret already out of the bag anyway. “Okay, yes, I’m pregnant,” I confess, feeling both relief and apprehension at admitting it.
Elena’s response is immediate and exuberant, a burst of joy that fills the space around us. “I knew it!” she exclaims, her excitement a living thing. “This is amazing, Maura!”
Her happiness is infectious, and despite the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling, I can’t help but crack a smile.
Without missing a beat, Elena flags down the waiter, ordering a bottle of sparkling water for me and a glass of champagne for herself. Once the drinks arrive, she raises her glass and, with a genuine smile that’s equal parts happy and excited, says, “To new beginnings.”
After we clink glasses, I ask, “How did you guess?”
Elena’s grin widens, and she nods, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Yes. I might have taken a peek at your hospital files after the accident,” she admits, her tone casual but apologetic.
My jaw drops, a mix of shock and amusement at her audacity. “You hacked into my medical records?” I ask, incredulous yet not surprised to hear that she went to such lengths.
Elena shrugs, and I shake my head, laughter bubbling up despite the initial shock. “Well, I guess I can’t be too mad. You’d replace out sooner or later,” I concede, raising my glass of sparkling water in a mock salute. “You are, after all, the baby’s auntie.”
As I sit across from Elena, my heart does somersaults. It feels like madness to drop the baby bomb on Luk now when our lives are more tangled than a season of some convoluted reality show.
Elena, picking at her salad, looks up with those knowing eyes. “So, when are you planning to tell him?”
I sigh, pushing my food around my own plate. “Elena, how can I? With everything that’s going on right now, it just doesn’t seem fair to pile this on him, too.”
She laughs, a light, easy sound that somehow makes it feel less like a crisis. “Maura, Luk’s tough. Sure, he’s got that whole brooding, Bratva boss thing down, but this? This will make him the happiest man alive.”
“But the threats, the attacks…” I try to argue, but she waves me off.
“Maura, love,” she leans in, her tone earnest. Luk’s been through worse. This, you, us, is what he’s protecting. What’s one more reason to keep fighting, especially one of such great importance?”
I chew on my lip, considering. “I just… I need some time, Elena, to figure out how to tell him.”
She nods in understanding. “Okay, I get it, but don’t wait too long. Secrets have a way of making themselves known, and usually at the worst possible times.”
I smile, grateful for her support. “Thanks, Elena. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She grins, raising her glass. “Probably get into less trouble. But where’s the fun in that?”
Our laughter fills the space between us, easing the tension. For a moment, everything feels surprisingly normal.
The last crumbs of our indulgent lunch disappear, and Elena makes a suggestion. “How about we hit a few more stores before we head back? I heard there’s a sale at Saks, and I want to check it out.”
I glance at my watch, seeing that the time for my appointment is near. “Yes, that sounds great,” I reply, the words slipping out before I can think better of them. The thought of diving back into the world of retail therapy is tempting, a distraction I’m eager to lose myself in, even if just for a little while longer.
We pay the bill and head out. But as we approach the gleaming entrance of the department store, a knot forms in my stomach. I sneak another glance at my watch and realize with a jolt that my window of opportunity is closing fast. If I’m going to make my appointment with Frank, I need to leave immediately.
Elena and I step into Saks, and I can’t help but feel a major twinge of guilt for what I’m about to do. She’s chatting away, excited about some exclusive collection that just arrived, but my mind is focused on something else entirely.
“We could split up and cover more ground,” Elena suggests, eyeing the sprawling floors. “We might be able to accomplish more that way.”
I nod, disbelieving the opportunity I’ve just been given. “Great idea. Can I meet you back here in an hour?”
“Deal. Don’t get lost,” she winks, heading toward the escalator. “And don’t try to ditch your bodyguard either!” she adds over her shoulder.
I have one hour. The office is ten minutes away. I might be able to finish the meeting with Frank and get back here before she suspects anything.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I tell the guard that remains with me that I need to use the restroom. He nods and stands out front with his back to the door. Thankfully, there is a small commotion as two women start to argue over one remaining sweater on a rack, and I am able to slip away without him noticing.
Ducking through a side door marked ‘Employees Only,’ I slip into the back corridors of the store, my steps quick and quiet.
Emerging on the opposite side, I glance back to make sure I’m not being followed before hailing a cab. “Downtown, and step on it,” I tell the driver, sinking low into the seat as we pull away.
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