Chapter 41 When Jeremy is gone, I look in the other direction. "How long have you been following me?" Pavel sighs as he walks up. "Hello to you, too." "Don't deflect. Why are you following me?" "Because I'm considering a career change. Always wanted to be a doctor." The joke falls flat when he sees my expression. "Look, it's not a big deal. I'm just making sure you're safe." "You're spying on me." "I prefer 'protective surveillance.' It's really nice of me, wouldn't you say?" He reaches for my wrist. "Let me see this." I jerk my hand away. "No. And tell your brother that next time he assigns me a babysitter, he should at least have the courtesy to inform me first." "Come on, admit it. I came in handy just now." I want to stay angry, but Pavel's ridiculous charm is already chipping away at my defenses. I hate how the Krayev brothers do this to me-make me feel things I don't want to feel. "Where are you going?" he asks, falling into step beside me when I start striding away from him. "To restock the supply room. Where do you think?" "At least let me push that cart. I look like an ass letting the lady do all the work." "I'm perfectly capable of handling this myself," I snap as I wheel it down the hall. "I don't need a man to rescue me. Contrary to what you and your brother seem to think." "He's trying to keep you safe." "I'm safe here." Pavel raises an eyebrow. "Are you? You just got manhandled in a brightly lit hallway. Also, this is the same hospital that hosted a literal shootout a few weeks ago, lest that fun little fact slipped your mind." "Right." I cringe. "I forgot about that." "You forgot about armed gunmen in your workplace?" Pavel's laugh is incredulous. "Jesus, you might actually be perfect for Kovan." That's the worst thing he could've said to me right now. Perfect for Kovan-as if that's even a possibility. As if it's something I'd want. Yeah, right. "Please. There's no woman alive who could make that man happy. Least of all me." I stop outside the supply room and nod toward the door. "Could you get that, since you're such a gentleman?" He pushes it open, and I shove the cart inside. The bare shelves make my stomach clench all over again. "Son of a bitch," I mutter. "Hey, I'm not that bad." Despite everything, I almost smile. "For once, I wasn't talking about you." "I know." Pavel blocks the cart with his body and holds out his hand. "Let me see your wrist before you start stocking." "It's fine." "Don't make me be the bad guy here, Vesper. I genuinely hate playing that role." Something in his voice makes me pause. For all his joking around, Pavel Krayev isn't someone you want to cross. I extend my hand without another word. He examines my wrist carefully, his expression darkening. "That bastard." "It's just a surface bruise. It'll fade in a few days." "A few days is a long time to hide this from Kovan." "Hide it? Why would I hide it?" Pavel gives me a look like I've lost my mind. "Because if he sees this, he's going to lose his shit. He'll storm in here and tear Jeremy Fleming apart with his bare hands." The image of Kovan charging through the ER to defend my honor is annoyingly hot. Which is ridiculously annoying. I've said it again and again: I don't need a man to fight my battles. But if that man happened to be Kovan... "I think you're overestimating his attachment to me," I say, pulling my hand back. "He made it clear where I stand. I'm just an employee. He does not care about me." "Trust me, Vesper. He'll care." "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one." I turn away before Pavel can see how much the conversation is affecting me. "If you're going to hang around, make yourself useful. Those surgical masks go on the left shelf. Stack them neatly." "Stocking shelves," Pavel muses, grabbing handfuls of masks. "Is this what they taught you in medical school? That really took four years, plus residency? You must be a slow learner." I ignore his teasing and focus on organizing supplies, but my mind keeps circling back to Jeremy. "He's doing this on purpose," I mumble. "He's trying to make my job impossible so I'll quit." "The asshole with the Draco Malfoy hair?" He purses his lips. "Why not just fire you?" "He can't. Not without cause. He's afraid of the lawsuit and the bad press." I shake my head. "I don't understand how he's managed to stay in power this long. He's run this hospital into the ground. Any other board would have ousted him years ago." Pavel goes very still, focusing intently on a box of heart rate monitors. Too intently. Those things aren't that interesting. When I notice, I poke him in the ribs. "What aren't you telling me?" With a shudder, he resumes stacking. "What do you mean?" "You know something I don't." "I know lots of things you don't. We'd be here all night if I started listing them." "God." I roll my eyes. "You're like the annoying little brother I never wanted." "Funny. Kovan says the same thing." I turn away to hide my smile. We work in comfortable silence for the next thirty minutes, restocking the shelves that Jeremy had plundered and pillaged. But instead of feeling better, dread settles in my stomach like a stone. Pavel seems to sense my unease. "You okay?" "No. Yes. I don't know." I shake my head. "He's not going to let this go. There's going to be hell to pay. I can feel it coming." "I wouldn't worry too much. You've got us on your side." "Jeremy has powerful people backing him, too." Pavel snorts. "We are the powerful people, Vesper. Jeremy and his puppet masters are about to learn that the hard way." The way he says "puppet masters" makes me study his face, but he's already turned away, carefully avoiding my eyes. "Can we get out of here?" he asks, glancing around at the cramped closet. "This place is giving me claustrophobia." I follow him out of the supply room, acutely aware of every nurse watching us. "You can leave now, you know. My shift is over. I'm gonna shower and go home. There's no point in you sticking around." "Except I'm under strict orders to escort you home." My jaw drops. "You're kidding me." But Pavel simply shrugs and starts whistling. "I don't see what the big deal is. You didn't have a problem with it all the other times I followed you home." "That's because I didn't know you- Hold on, what?!" Pavel chuckles like this is all perfectly normal. For him, maybe it is. But it's news to me. Intrusive news at that. "I'll wait outside the locker room while you change. And hey, does the doctor's lounge have any snacks? Something sweet, maybe? I'll settle for a juice box if that's all you've got." "Aren't bodyguards supposed to be seen and not heard?" "I'm a special kind of bodyguard." "You're special, alright. That's for damn sure." He pouts out a lower lip. "Someone's cranky when she's tired." I push open the door to the doctor's lounge, blocking Pavel's path. "Stay here. I'll only be a few minutes." "Sit, Pavel. Stay, Pavel. Roll over and play dead, Pavel," he mutters to himself. "No one appreciates me around here." Just before I close the door, he calls out, "Don't forget the juice box!" "Idiot," I mutter, though I'm fighting back affection I don't want to feel. Fifteen minutes later, showered but still exhausted and irritable, I emerge, hoping Pavel has gotten bored and left. No such luck. He's leaning against the desk at the nurses' station, flirting with Meg, one of the pediatric nurses. She's young, blonde, and curvy, exactly the type of woman who makes fathers linger during visiting hours. I walk past without acknowledging him. "Hey!" he calls, breaking off mid-sentence. "Wait up! See you later, Meg! Miss you! Love you!" He jogs to catch up, grumbling under his breath. "Would it have killed you to wait until I got her number?" "She's too young and innocent for you. Leave her alone." "Cockblocker." I can't help smirking as I lead him toward the staff parking lot. But before we reach my car, Pavel suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me backward. "What the hell?" I stumble against him. "What's wrong?" "Someone slashed your tires." I crane my neck around Pavel to see how bad the damage is. But before I can get a good glimpse, someone steps out of their nearby car and walks towards us. "All four tires," a woman confirms somberly. "Definitely wasn't an accident." Eliza Murphy, Luka's social worker-Miss Trunchbull herself-approaches us with those sharp eyes already cataloging every detail and judging harshly. Of all the people to run into right now... Those eagle eyes zero in on me, searching for weaknesses in my story. For proof that I'm not who I pretend to be. And all I can think is that, despite everything I've told myself, there's only one person I want to call. Kovan, I need you. Now.