Keeping my Mafia Bodyguard (Mafia Devils and their Darlings book 2)

The sound of something rustling against the glass window makes me jerk upright in bed. I sit still, listening for it. It wasn’t the hum of the AC unit, not the leaves of the tree behind the window. The room is dark, just me breathing carefully on the bed. The chill in the air raises goosebumps across my skin. I slide out from under the blanket and pad barefoot toward the remote resting on the table. With a beep, the AC shuts off. I still don’t hear what woke me up. Maybe it was the wind. It’s the rainy season, and Moscow gets real breezy. Maybe the window rattled. Or maybe someone was trying to get in. I creep toward the window, reach for the curtain, and peer out through the clear glass. Light shines brightly over the empty yard. A single rose tree stands in a circle of stone, a soldier with a rifle hanging over his shoulder disappears into the left corner of the house. Nothing but peace and quiet in the Drognov estate. Just as I knew it would be. A breath I didn’t realize I was holding slips out of me as I pull back from the window. What was I thinking? This place is guarded to the teeth. There’s no way anyone would be trying to get in through my window. I turn to the door where the chair I always keep wedged against it still rests. It’s peaceful here in Claire’s house, as safe as can be. There’s no need to worry. I came here almost six months ago, helping Claire take care of Jayden and keeping her company when Aleksei doesn’t return home for days on end. Nothing has happened since. The days have been boring, save for the recent scare today. My eyes shift to the clock resting on the bedside table. The numbers glow twelve thirty. Well, yesterday. I let out a sigh and return to bed, the sheets colder now than when I’d been sleeping in them. Aleksei returned last night almost immediately after, like someone had informed him about Claire’s anger when we arrived at his father’s estate to retrieve Jayden. He is just as imposing as the first time I met him, and avoiding his path is almost instinct at this point. I wonder if he’s only staying long enough to appease Claire or if he’s back for good. And with him comes Niko. The stoic face of the man always behind Aleksei, following like a shadow, flickers through my mind. A smile curves across my face. We’ve barely said more than a few words to each other since I started living with Claire. But I won’t lie, my decision to come here and stay with Claire despite everything, and despite how strained our friendship is, was largely influenced by him. I don’t know why he struck me so deeply. The first time I saw him was at Claire’s wedding. As usual, he looked dangerous, like a man not to be trifled with. And I had not trifled. I had barely managed to survive the shame and humiliation of getting exposed with Austin at Serena’s wedding reception. My friendship with Claire hit a rougher patch than ever, and I didn’t even notice the handsome bodyguard. It wasn’t until after Claire gave birth to Jayden, when Niko and Aleksei returned from Russia to stay with her for several months, that our paths really crossed. I have to admit, that face card is not bad to look at. But I might as well be air to the man. If he isn’t giving me a polite nod as he passes, his eyes glaze right over me as if I’m not there. I sigh and lower my head. What I wouldn’t give for a man like that to look at me, stand in front of me with those hard gray eyes, black suit, wide shoulders, dark presence, protecting me from all the evil in the world. I press my nose into my pillow and inhale heavily like some tragic asthma patient. Of course that’s never going to happen. Not in this crappy life of mine. My stomach lets out a loud gurgle, the worms inside throwing a party. I groan softly, turning my head from the pillow so I’m looking at the door. It’s quiet outside. All the maids are probably asleep by now. I can’t wake anyone up just because I was too scared of accidentally running into Aleksei to eat dinner. My appetite has never been great anyway. I could use a bite of the almond bread I smelled baking this evening. My mouth waters. No, I should go back to sleep. It’s midnight. Eating this late would be stupid. My brows press together painfully as I struggle to drift back toward sleep. Sleeping is a luxury, bought by an escape I can’t bear to think about. Don’t waste it. After several long moments of fluttering eyes and growling stomach, I push myself up on the edge of the bed with a sigh. My phone resting on the nightstand lights up. It’s on silent mode, and the white glow pierces the darkness. Probably spam. I reach for it anyway, taking the sleek smooth phone into my hand. One tap of my finger against the fingerprint scanner and the phone unlocks, along with the sentence waiting on my screen. I rise slowly from the bed, my hand going cold, eyes fixed on the words. You are in Russia. Four solid words that completely scramble my head. Damn it. Maybe I should sit down. The room feels like it’s spinning. How the hell did he find me? The sound that woke me up comes again, a faint rattle at the window. Opening. The phone slips from my fingers with a crash that barely reaches my ears. Something pushes against the curtain. A head... or a hand, shoving it aside. The ground rushes up to meet my face, blackness swallowing my vision before I can make a sound.