Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Six
Morning came soft and gold.

The estate woke slowly beneath it—dogs stirring in their runs, boots crossing gravel, radios murmuring low through open doors.

Anika stood at the kitchen counter with both hands wrapped around a mug she had no intention of drinking.

Coffee smelled wrong now.

Not terrible. Just too sharp. Too heavy.

She set the mug down before anyone noticed.

Unfortunately, Lizzy noticed everything.

From across the island, Lizzy lifted one brow but said nothing.

Nikolai entered a moment later, still damp from the shower, black shirt clinging faintly to his shoulders. Ares followed at his side.

Not behind him.

At his side.

That was new.

The dog crossed the kitchen and immediately pressed himself against Anika’s leg.

Nikolai paused.

“So,” Lizzy said lightly, “Ares has officially promoted himself to emotional support tank.”

Anika scratched the dog’s head. “He’s being dramatic.”

Ares leaned harder.

Nikolai watched the movement for a second, thoughtful.

“He is protective today.”

“He’s a protection dog.”

“Not with me,” Nikolai said.

The room went still for half a beat.

Then Anika smiled, deliberately easy. “Maybe he finally realized you’re the problem.”

Lizzy choked on her water.

Nikolai’s mouth almost curved. “Unlikely.”

But when he stepped closer and lifted a hand toward Anika’s waist, Ares’ head rose.

No growl this time.

Just alert.

Focused.

Waiting.

Nikolai stopped.

Anika felt the moment sharpen and hated it.

“Ares,” she said gently. “Va bene.”

The dog relaxed, but only barely.

Nikolai lowered his hand slowly, gaze moving from the dog to her face.

Not suspicious.

Not yet.

Just aware.

“It’s probably the storm pressure,” Lizzy said, too casually. “Some dogs get weird after weather changes.”

Anika sent her a grateful glance.

Nikolai said nothing.

But he didn’t touch her again until Ares settled.

That hurt more than it should have.

After breakfast, routines scattered them.

Anika spent the morning reviewing the next off-estate contract with Lizzy in the kennel office, pretending the test hidden under grooming towels did not exist. Lizzy pretended not to know exactly where Anika’s eyes kept drifting.

“You need to move it,” Lizzy said finally.

Anika blinked. “Move what?”

“The thing you’re pretending not to think about.”

Anika exhaled. “I don’t know where.”

“Somewhere Nikolai won’t find it.”

Anika laughed once, humorless. “That narrows it down to nowhere.”

Lizzy sighed. “Then keep it on you.”

“That feels worse.”

“It is worse. But also smarter.”

Anika looked toward the bathroom door tucked behind the grooming shelves.

The secret sat there like a live wire.

“I was going to tell him,” she whispered.

Lizzy softened. “I know.”

“I still am.”

“I know that too.”

Anika looked down at the contract in front of her. The words blurred slightly.

“I just need one more normal day.”

Lizzy reached across the desk and squeezed her wrist.

“Then take one.”

So she did.

Or tried to.

By afternoon, the estate had warmed under clear skies. The men worked with dogs across the field, reinforcing hand signals and quiet commands. No shouting. No chaos.

Just trust being built one repetition at a time.

Maksim stood near the equipment shed, speaking with two handlers when Lizzy crossed the field carrying a medical kit.

His attention shifted before she reached him.

Always before.

“You’re staring,” she said without slowing.

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Usually.”

That made her glance up.

His expression remained controlled, but his eyes were not.

Not anymore.

The kiss lived there now.

Between them.

Unresolved.

She stopped beside him and crouched near Romeo, who had flopped dramatically onto his side as if a minor brace adjustment required full emotional participation.

“You again?” Lizzy muttered to the dog. “You are milking this.”

Romeo wagged his docked tail once.

Maksim crouched across from her, helping hold the leg steady.

Their hands brushed twice.

The third time, neither pretended it was accidental.

Lizzy kept her voice low. “We should probably talk about the hallway.”

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”

“If we talk, I will say what should be said.”

“And what’s that?”

His gaze held hers.

“That I should stay away from you.”

Her throat tightened.

“But you won’t.”

“No,” he admitted.

The honesty stole the air from her lungs.
Before she could respond, Anika’s voice called across the field.

“Liz, can you check Nyx’s shoulder?”

Lizzy stood too fast.

Maksim caught the edge of the kit before it tipped.

Not her.

The kit.

Careful man.

Infuriating man.

“Later,” she said quietly.

His eyes stayed on hers.

“Yes.”

That single word felt like a promise.

Evening settled warm and easy.

Dinner was outside again, less formal than the night before. Plates balanced on laps. Dogs sprawled under chairs. Ilya argued with one of the handlers about music selection while Lizzy declared both choices criminal.

Anika laughed until her ribs ached.

Then stopped abruptly when the sound nearly turned into tears.

Pregnancy was ridiculous.

Nikolai noticed the change but misread it as fatigue. He leaned closer, voice low.

“Enough for today?”

She shook her head. “No. I like this.”

His gaze softened.

“This?”

She looked around the yard—the firepit, the dogs, Lizzy and Maksim pointedly not looking at each other, Ilya losing an argument to a playlist.

“All of it,” she said.

Something moved across his face then.

Something unguarded.

“This is what I wanted,” he admitted.

Her heart squeezed painfully.

“What?”

He looked toward the estate, toward the warm windows and armed men and dogs sleeping like shadows around them.

“A place where violence does not get the final word.”

Anika went still.

The words landed deep.

Too deep.

She thought of the test.

Of two lines.

Of a future growing quietly beneath all this steel and smoke and discipline.

She reached for his hand under the blanket and threaded their fingers together.

“You’re building it,” she said.

“No,” he murmured. “We are.”

We.

The word nearly broke her.

Ares lifted his head from beneath her chair and stared into the darkness beyond the yard.

Nyx did too.

Then Ghost, from near the stairs.

Three heads.

Same direction.

Silent.

Alert.

The conversation around the fire continued, unaware for half a second.

Then Ares gave one low rumble.

Not loud.

Not aggressive.

But enough.

Nikolai’s hand tightened around Anika’s instantly.
Maksim stood.

Every man within earshot shifted.

Weapons did not appear, but the air changed as if they had.

“What is it?” Lizzy asked softly.

Anika stared into the dark tree line.

Nothing moved.

No scent reached her.

No sound.

After a moment, Ghost relaxed first.

Nyx followed.

Ares remained tense another second before settling back at Anika’s feet.

Ilya exhaled. “Deer, maybe.”

“Maybe,” Maksim said.

But his eyes stayed on the trees.

Nikolai looked down at Ares, then at Anika.

Still no suspicion.

Just the beginning of unease.

Anika forced a smile and squeezed his hand.

“See?” she said quietly. “Even the dogs are dramatic.”

Nikolai didn’t smile back.

Later, when the house finally quieted, Anika slipped into the grooming room alone.

She retrieved the hidden test.

For one breath, she considered walking straight to Nikolai.

Telling him.

Instead, she carried it upstairs and tucked it into the back of her nightstand drawer.

Closer.

Hidden.

Still hers.

For one more day.