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)
This is about more than a sibling defending a sibling. I’m certain of it.
It isn’t even about a father protecting a son.
The fight is completely different when it comes to soulmates.
I only make it halfway across the den before Andrik slices his hand through the air, freezing my steps. “Don’t.”
The way he looks at me is more painful than his short rejection. He looks at me as if I am disgusting and that I will never be his first choice to mother his children or take on his last name.
His next statement proves my theories. “I went through with the ceremony today because I was hoping they’d keep their word. That they would give my son a new heart. They didn’t, so I no longer need to keep my side of our deal either.” His eyes fall to the floor. “We will take care of that”—he jerks his hand at my stomach—“then file for an annulment shortly after.”
My voice cracks when I ask, “My sister?” It wasn’t solely Andrik’s son’s health on my mind when I made my decision earlier today. Aleena’s unborn child was right there next to him.
I sigh in relief when Andrik answers, “Will be free to live her life how she sees fit.” I wonder just how closely this man has been watching proceedings this weekend when he says, “It came to light recently that she may not be the most suitable candidate for a future First Lady. Integrity is a big part of the role. Conceiving another man’s child is not exactly honorable.”
Too heartbroken to fight, I nod like I’m not as blindsided by his revelation now as I was when he announced that Aleena made out to him that I didn’t exist.
It also confirms my earlier assumption that her unborn child isn’t Andrik’s.
You only use gimmicks when you have nothing solid to tie you to them.
That was the first trick our mother taught us.
When Andrik commences walking away, I slow his steps by asking, “Will you ever tell me what I did wrong?” I could leave it there, but I’m too hormonal to act pleasant. “Then I can ensure I don’t make the same mistake with the next man whose name I want to notch on my bedpost.”
He almost bites at the bait I’m dangling in front of him. His hands ball into fists, and I can hear the crunch of his back molars as he grinds them together. But as quickly as my hope rises that the punishment he instigated earlier was just the start, it is flattened.
“There are twelve bedrooms in the east wing. Pick any of them you want.”
After releasing his balled hands, he heads in the opposite direction of the way he suggested.
67
ZOYA
“Good morning.”
I wait for the middle-aged blonde woman to acknowledge my greeting, before tiptoeing into Zakhar’s room. He’s awake—barely. I don’t believe his exhaustion is of choice. He’s so unwell that doing something as simple as keeping his eyelids open is exhausting.
Hope that everything isn’t as bad as it seems rains down on me when Zakhar’s nanny says, “Don’t expect much of a response from him. He only responds to candy. Don’t you, Zak?” She tickles his ribs, sending his boyish laugh bouncing around the room.
When I laugh, Zakhar’s joyful eyes shift to me. He stares at me with his head tilted to the side and his lips quirked for several long seconds before he drops his focus to my pockets. “Do you have any sweets?”
“I don’t.” When he pouts, I quickly add, “I could get you some.”
His smile blurs when he nods fast.
“Let me,” offers the nanny. “I’m dying for some caffeine.” She twists to face me. “You?”
I nod as eagerly as Zakhar. “Please.”
She smiles in acknowledgement before telling Zakhar she will be back in a minute. “Take care of our guest for me, okay? Her reception was a little frosty yesterday, so you need to be extra nice to her.” She squeezes my hand on the way out, then exits, closing the door behind her.
I stop staring at the medical equipment monitoring Zakhar’s stats when he says, “I think Anoushka likes you. You must have good karma.”
“You know what karma is?”
Brown locks bounce in all directions when he bobs his chin. “Mommy says it is when someone is a good person so they’re pre…pre… predes—”
“Predestined?”
Again, he nods. “Predestined for greatness.” A fondness twinkles in his eyes. “That’s why I was born. I was put into my mommy’s tummy because I am pre…pre—”
“Predestined,” I fill in again.
He doesn’t bother repeating the word too large for his vocabulary. “Mommy says I was born to do great things. That I will restore the rightful order.” I sit on the edge of his bed and hold his tiny hand in mine when he murmurs, “I just have to get better first.”