“She’s a good actress,” Z remarks.
“Yes, she really is.” I watch Alyona’s mouth drop open in disbelief, her hands flying to cover her face in shock at the unfolding scene. Adam stands nearby, one hand pressed against his temple, trying to weave his way past a police officer who is firmly shaking his head in disapproval.
In the chaos, Alyona begins to stumble, her legs unsteady. She reaches out to grab Adam’s car to keep herself balanced until she gets to the back of the vehicle. With a sudden, forceful slam of her hip against it, the trunk springs open. I glance over at Z, who is watching me intently with an impressed look in his eyes.
“Clever girl,” he says, a hint of respect in his tone.
Her scream echoes all around, drawing everyone’s attention to the mangled body in the trunk.
Great actress indeed. There’s a commotion, and our view gets blocked, but then we see Adam being handcuffed and slammed against a police cruiser.
A grin spreads across my face.
That was a little too easy.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re seen,” Z urges, glancing around and jerking his chin for me to move.
“What about Alyona?” I ask, the weight of the question pushing down on us.
“What about her?”
“Let me rephrase. What the fuck do we do now? About Alyona and our kid?”
Our kid.
I can’t believe I just said that shit out loud.
“She’s notourkid. Not really,” Z says, his voice hardening. “Alyona kept her from us, and if we hadn’t come here, we would have never known she existed. Maybe that’s for the best.” Hiswords hang in the air, a bittersweet acknowledgement of the life we never got to have because Alyona decided for us.
I can see the turmoil in his eyes. He’s hurting and panicking, and I know he doesn’t truly mean what he’s saying. Still, I nod in understanding because he is where my priority lies. It’s me and him.
“Let’s go grab a quick shower and some food,” I tell him gently. “We need to go and officially introduce ourselves to the staff at the club, and then we should figure out who the assassin woman came here with since she told Alyona that she didn't come here alone.”
Z clenches his jaw and replies, “I’m going to kill them all and send their fucking heads to Yuri.” He slams his fist against the dashboard, his knuckles splitting open and causing a button to pop off the air vent, clattering to the floor.
“This is a rental,” I remind him with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. We both chuckle, the absurdity of our situation breaking through the tension. This has been an insane few days.
“Let’s get burgers,” Z demands, his voice firm and decisive. When Z makes a request, it’s usually non-negotiable.
“Burgers it is.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alyona
“Ma’am, I’m Detective Scott,” a tall man wearing a shirt with rolled-up sleeves says. “I know you’ve spoken with our police officers, but I’d like to ask you a couple of questions if that’s okay.” He scrapes the legs of his chair across the floor as he takes a seat opposite me, placing a file and a cup of coffee on the tabletop. His dark hair is neatly styled and matches the color of his eyes. A subtle scattering of freckles across his nose seems out of place for such a broad, rugged man. He’s handsome, and I know all too well how dangerous handsome men can be.
"I'm sorry. Did you want some coffee?" he asks, sliding his steaming cup across the table, the scent wafting toward me.
My mouth is dry and desperate for a drink. When Adam got out of the car at the crash site, I waited inside the car for a second to pop the trunk. It must have got jammed because it didn’t open, luckily my hip dislodged it and the rest is history.
I gingerly take the cup and take a sip, but the sweetness overwhelms me. I nearly spit the syrupy shit back at him.
"Why is there so much sugar in this?" I ask, cringing and smacking my lips at the overly sweet taste. Gross.
"Apologies," he says with a chuckle, a deep, genuine sound that seems to reverberate through the air. "I like my coffee sweet."
There’s something disarming about his voice. It feels inviting and warm, putting me at ease despite the unexpected sugar rush.
