“There’s no way I’m carrying all of this,” I tell him. I can’t imagine walking around campus with that bag.
“You’re not going to,” he says. “Sasha will handle it.”
I blink. “Who the hell is Sasha?”
“You’ll meet her in a bit,” Alexei says as he sets the bag aside. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you.” He looks at me. “Is there anything else?”
I bite my lip for a second. I might as well try. “Can I have some cash?”
He looks surprised. “Cash?”
“Yeah, for the vending machines at school,” I explain. The machines really don't take cards, so that’s not a lie. But perhaps that isn’t really my plan for the cash.
My husband stares at me, checking to see if I’m being honest. I give nothing away. “How much are you asking for?”
“Maybe five thousand rubles?” I say, trying to act like it’s not a big deal.
Alexei grabs his wallet and starts counting out bills. He hands me a stack of cash that is much bigger than what I asked for. I look at it in disbelief.
“This is a hundred thousand rubles.”
“Yes,” he says, like it’s nothing.
“I only asked for five thousand,” I say, showing him the money. “For vending machines.”
He takes my hand and closes my fingers around the cash. “Use your card for anything else. Keep this just in case.”
I look from the money to him and back again. “You just gave me over a thousand dollars for snacks.”
Alexei comes closer and rests his hand on my belly. He starts rubbing in slow circles. “You have to eat,” he says. I can hear how protective he’s being. “Don’t get too hungry. It isn't good for either of you.”
“I’ll eat. I’m eating.”
“Drink plenty of water, too,” he continues. “You need to stay healthy for the baby.”
“I know what the baby needs,” I remind him gently. But he just goes ahead to kiss my forehead and my nose before giving me a soft kiss on the lips.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “Both of you.”
“We love you too,” I say. He’s hovering, but strangely that's what I love about my husband.
In the foyer, I spot a woman who’s taller than me but has more of an athletic build than bulk. She’s wearing casual clothes—dark jeans, a fitted jacket—completely different from the tailored suits Alexei’s men and women favor. But from the way she watches the room and how alert she is, she’s no slouch.
“Zoya, this is Sasha,” Alexei says.
Sasha shakes my hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Romanov. My name is Sasha Volkov. I have eight years of field experience in close protection. Former FSB operative, counterintelligence division. Three years embedded with the US Secret Service as an exchange agent. Specialized training in tactical combat, firearms, explosives detection, and emergency medical response. Fluent in six languages, including Mandarin and Arabic. Expert in surveillance, counter-surveillance, and threat assessment. Black belt in Krav Maga and Systema.”
Her expression is blank as she goes on. “I’ve protected diplomats, oligarchs, and high-value targets in conflict zones across three continents. You won’t even know I’m there, ma’am.”
I look at this woman who just casually mentioned she can dismantle bombs and speak six languages. I realize Alexei has hired a literal killer to be my campus babysitter.
“Yeah,” I say, letting all my sarcasm bleed into that one word. “And I better not see you anywhere near me. My friends are already suspicious. I don’t need this getting even more bizarre or pulling anyone else into my situation.”
Sasha gives a single nod. “Understood, ma’am. I’ll remain invisible.”
I turn to leave, trying not to think about how I’m going to spend the whole day being watched by a professional spy. I’m almost out the door when Alexei’s voice stops me short.
“Not so fast,Vedma. You forgot something.”