The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2) by Bethany-Kris (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

time as Mr. Avdonin has today. He can’t help you with anything else. For further questions, have them delivered in writing to my office so we can take the appropriate time to discuss them, and his answers, with our client.”

While Roman gulped the rum down his throat, he watched the two FBI agents stand up. They didn’t hide the fact that they weren’t happy about being made to leave, but that was the game they agreed to play when they questioned him.

One of the lawyers walked the agents to the door of the hotel suite, while the rest of the people in the room remained exactly where they were.

The agents were gone moments later, making Demyan turn to his son.

“So, Leonid is missing, then. If he’s underground, it’s safe to say Dima has probably done the same.”

“Something tells me they’re not just hiding out doing nothing in the middle of nowhere,” Roman replied, already annoyed.

Demyan shook his head, saying only, “You need to watch your back, son.”

“Perfect, so nothing much has changed.”

SIXTEEN

Michelle had encouraged Karine to meditate—something she hadn’t tried before, and didn’t know very much about until the doctor brought it up. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, requiring more concentration and focus than she was used to when the purpose was to relax. Even though she’d been suspicious of the idea at first, not believing it would help her in any way to get that deep inside her own mind, she decided to follow Roman’s advice.

She kept an open mind with regards to Michelle and the journey she was taking Karine on.

Two weeks of practising day after day, and it finally felt like it was making a difference. Clearing her mind one measured breath at a time, weightless limbs releasing any tension, and everything was ... quiet.

Soft, even.

Her favorite time to meditate was in the morning—like now—so it was the first thing she started her day with, sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, facing the open window where the fresh scent of the lake and woods flowed in with a light, chill breeze. Her lungs filled with crisp air. The now-usual echo of voices in her head were all but gone, having faded farther away with every passing minute and each breath she took.

When Karine finally did open her eyes again, her mind was empty. Not in the way it used to be before—when she was always muddled and confused by medication. It was a new clarity she hadn’t known existed.

Karine bounced up off the floor with a smile and changed into a fresh set of clothes, satisfied that she had properly started her day. The rest of it always went better like that.

Masha and Claire’s voices floated from the direction of the kitchen as Karine made her way downstairs, following the mouthwatering scent of breakfast wafting through the halls.

Her appetite had improved, too.

More than she expected.

Michelle correlated her newfound interest in food to the fact her senses were no longer numb—eating wasn’t just mechanical for Karine. Not something she had to do just to sustain her life. She actually enjoyed the textures, even the way food looked, and especially the smell and taste.

She even wanted to learn to cook.

More than anything, Karine wanted to tell Roman. He called her every day, ready and willing to hear each second of her days repeated to him without complaint, and every time she found that she missed him a little more. It didn’t even matter that whenever she wanted to hear his voice, all she needed to do was text him, and he called her back. It was never enough to leave her satisfied—the invisible hole in her heart grew larger still.

And even if he couldn’t call her back straight away, he eventually did. Never left her hanging. Those promises he kept meant the world to Karine. Especially the small ones.

“You’re looking ... happy,” Claire declared, pouring steaming black coffee into mugs as Karine took a seat at the table. Masha chanced a glance over her shoulder from where she cooked at the stove, seemingly relieved to see her.

“You do,” Masha agreed.

But she offered nothing more, and quickly went back to the food on the stove. They weren’t in the Yazov mansion anymore, but Masha still couldn’t view herself as Karine’s equal even if she wished that wasn’t the case.

Shaking the wisps of sadness off, Karine turned her attention on Roman’s mother. “Thank you, Claire. Meditating is helping. And good food, too.”

Claire joined her at the table with a laugh. “Good food helps with everything. As long as it’s not Russian food—just don’t tell any of the men that. They might feel some kind of way about it.”

Karine shared her smile.

And made a mental note.

Masha continued to cook breakfast, standing with her back turned to them and barely even making an effort to stay in the conversation. Not that Claire would mind if she did join in, but it was what it was.

“Michelle certainly seems to know what she’s doing, doesn’t she?” Claire asked, reaching for the sugar and milk dishes between them to pull them closer to her steaming mug of coffee. “As long as it’s working for you, that’s what counts.”

“I tried getting Masha to do it with me, but she didn’t want to.”

Masha threw an embarrassed smile and short laugh over her shoulder, murmuring in reply, “I have work to do, laundry and cooking and—”

“Don’t worry, Masha, I get it. I didn’t really want to do it, either.”

“Sounded a bit out there?” Claire asking, arching a brow.

Karine shrugged. “I mean, at first? Yeah.”

“It requires a lot of skill and discipline, more than people realize, and it’s definitely not for everyone. But, that also makes it quite an achievement that you’ve been able to pick it up, and you enjoy doing it,” Claire added.

Compliments were a strange thing to Karine, but she had heard more praise in these two weeks than ever before in her entire life. Self-confidence wasn’t as odd of a concept to