Hailey exchanged a look with Cassandra, some silent communication passing between them. Then she turned back to me, her expression serious. “You need to ask for help, Barbara. Real help. From someone who has the resources and skills to actually do something about Sebastian.”
“Like who?” I asked, even though I already knew where this was going.
“Like Kirill.”
His name sent a jolt through me. Part anticipation, part fear, part something I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Kirill Petrov is the right person to look into the situation you’re facing,” Hailey continued. “He’s Bratva tech. He can findthings, track things, protect you in ways we can’t. And from what I’ve seen”—she paused, studying my face—“he already cares about you. Which means he’d actually help.”
I grabbed my whiskey and downed it in one go, the burn doing nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything with you is complicated,” Cassandra said, not unkindly. “That doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
Before I could respond, movement caught my eye. Damir and a blonde woman I didn’t recognize were making their way through the crowd toward the bar. The woman moved gracefully in her designer clothes; even from across the room, I could see the way people instinctively moved out of her path.
“That’s Illyana,” Cassandra said, following my gaze. “Timur’s sister. Just moved to Chicago from New York.”
Great. More Bratva. Just what I needed.
They reached the bar, and I watched as Damir ordered drinks while Illyana scanned the crowd with ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. Her gaze landed on our booth, and for a moment, we just stared at each other.
Then she was walking toward us, Damir trailing behind with an armful of glasses.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“Be nice,” Hailey warned. “Illyana’s actually cool once you get past the whole ‘I could kill you seventeen different ways’ thing.”
They reached our booth, and Damir set down the glasses with a grin. “Ladies. Thought you could use some reinforcements.”
“You thought correctly,” Hailey said, grabbing one of the shots immediately.
Illyana slid into the booth across from me, her movements economical and precise. Up close, she was youngerthan I’d thought, maybe nineteen, but there was nothing young about the way she looked at me. Like she was cataloging every weakness, every vulnerability, filing them away for potential use.
“You’re Barbara,” she said. Not a question.
“Yeah.” I tried to sound confident, but I failed miserably. “And you’re Illyana.”
“Timur’s sister,” she confirmed. Then, without preamble: “You look like shit.”
“Illyana,” Damir said with a note of warning.
“What? I’m being honest.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “She looks stressed. Exhausted. Like she’s carrying weight she shouldn’t have to carry.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment.
Hailey jumped in before the silence could get too awkward. “We were just telling Barbara she should ask Kirill for help with—”
“With Sebastian,” I finished, the name tasting like ash. My throat felt tight, words struggling to get past the knot of anxiety. “The situation with Sebastian.”
I took a breath and tried again, forcing the words out. “Kirill thinks I sent Sebastian to attack him and….”
Illyana’s head whipped from Hailey to me so fast I almost flinched. Her eyes went cold, flat in a way that made every survival instinct I had start screaming. “Did you send that lazy-ass to attack Kirill?” Her voice was soft, deadly. “Is he your boyfriend?”
The accusation hit like a slap. Everyone at the table tensed, and I felt Cassandra’s hand tighten on mine in warning or support; I couldn’t tell which.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said, louder than intended. “Sebastian is not my boyfriend. He’s my evil half-brother.”
The words hung in the air for a beat. Then Illyana’s expression shifted—not softening exactly, but recalibrating. Likeshe’d been prepared for one kind of threat and had just realized it was something else entirely.
