I imagine vanishing: new passport, new city, a name that doesn’t taste of blood. A chance to breathe air that isn’t thick with smoke and gunpowder.
The truth presses sharp into me.
There’s no vanishing. Not from them. Not from him.
I stop at the mouth of the alley, the city noise faint beyond, and glance once over my shoulder. The darkness stares back, silent, waiting.
Every instinct tells me the same thing.
I’m already caught.
Chapter Ten - Alexei
The feed from the hacked traffic cameras is grainy, stuttering between angles, but it shows me enough. Her building, her hallway, the narrow alley she favors as an exit when she thinks she’s being careful. I’ve had Dimitri’s men tap into every lens on this block: municipal, private, even a few mounted on delivery vans that no one bothers to check. Crude, imperfect, but it works.
She leaves the apartment door open. Not even locked. A detail that tells me more than if she’d left a note behind. She doesn’t expect to come back. She has her bag slung over her shoulder, her posture tight with tension she hides well. She thinks she’s slipping away in silence, making her escape while the city still sleeps.
She doesn’t know I’m already here.
The corridor outside her apartment hums faintly under a flickering bulb, shadows stretching long along the walls. I wait in them, motionless, listening. Her heels click against the linoleum, a sound she tries to soften but cannot erase. She turns down the back stairwell, as I knew she would, avoiding the main entrance. She believes she’s cautious. She is, but not cautious enough.
I move when she steps into the alley. Fog curls low to the ground, wrapping around her like smoke, damp air muffling the sounds of the city beyond. She glances over her shoulder once, maybe twice, but not enough. Not soon enough.
She senses me a heartbeat too late. Her hand twitches toward her coat. I know what’s hidden there. Knife. Small, fast, meant for close range. She’ll never get the chance to draw it.
One step, one strike. My shoulder drives into her chest, pinning her hard against the wet brick wall. The thud rings through the alley, echoing off the steel fire escapes above. Herbag slips from her shoulder, landing in the puddles with a muted splash.
I don’t speak.
Her breath catches, sharp, ragged, but she doesn’t scream. She doesn’t fight, either. Her eyes meet mine, wide but steady, and there’s recognition in them. Not shock. Not disbelief. Understanding. She knows.
She knows it’s over.
My silence weighs heavier than any threat could.
I reach into my coat and pull free a length of cord, rough and black. Her wrists come together easily. Not because she submits in fear, but because she chooses not to resist. That choice unsettles me more than if she’d fought. The knot cinches tight, the rope biting into her skin. I test it with one sharp tug. Secure.
Then I pull her forward.
Her shoes scrape against concrete, her shoulder brushing mine as I drag her down the alley. She stumbles once but doesn’t protest, doesn’t plead. My SUV waits in the shadows, engine low and steady, windows darkened. Dimitri sits at the wheel, his face unreadable, eyes locked on the mirrors.
The door opens. I don’t hesitate. I shove her inside, the motion swift, practiced, a thousand rehearsals in a life built on control. She lands against the seat, wrists bound, chest heaving.
The door slams behind her with the weight of finality.
Inside, the air is thick, heavy with leather and smoke. The hum of the engine fills the silence. She shifts once, adjusting her bound hands, her mouth parting like she’s about to speak.
“Not here.”
My voice cuts across the space, low, flat, unreadable.
She closes her mouth.
I settle back into the seat, one hand resting casually on my knee, the other tracing a slow rhythm against the leather. Dimitri drives, his hands steady on the wheel, his silence a mirror of mine. He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t need to.
No one speaks.
Vivienne sits opposite me, wrists bound, posture upright. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She doesn’t even try to twist against the rope. Her eyes stay fixed on me, calm in a way that makes my jaw tighten.
