The man doesn’t answer me. He doesn’t say a word, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, he steps aside, his stance still protecting me.
“Go home safely,” he says, his voice low but firm. “It’s taken care of.”
I open my mouth to ask again, but the words die in my throat. I know. I know who sent him. The thick Russian accent has given it away.
He’s from Lukin.
A mix of confusion, frustration, and something else I can’t name floods me.
He knows where I live. He’s been watching me. And the worst part? I don’t know whether to be angry or… relieved. I choose angry.
I glare at the man in black, even though I know none of this is his fault. “Leave me alone,” I snap, my voice shaking with anger. “I don’t need your help. Just get out of my way.”
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even flinch.
I feel a scream building in my chest, something primal, something I can’t release. The weight of his silence presses down on me, and the more I stand there, the more I feel trapped. This isn’t protection. This isn’t help. This is control.
I can feel my skin prickling, the chill of the night creeping in around me, but it’s not just the cold that makes me shiver. It’s the thought of him—Lukin.
I storm off, my heels clicking harshly against the pavement, my breath coming in sharp, angry bursts. I don’t even look back. I can’t.
But even as I walk away, even as I try to put distance between myself and the situation, there’s a gnawing feeling deep in my stomach. I realize, with a sinking heart, that Lukin doesn’t even need to show his face to have this power over me.
He’s been watching me. Always watching.
The realization sends a shiver down my spine, the feeling of being tracked—no, monitored—making me feel small, exposed. He’s keeping tabs on me without saying a word, without revealing anything. He doesn’t need to. He’s always a step ahead, and I can’t escape that.
Part of me wants to scream, to rage at the intensity of it all, but the other part of me can’t stop wondering… is he watching me right now? Can he see me right now? Anger turns into excitement, but I instantly catch myself before it festers. I’m so stupid. How can I be excited about this?
I’m still burning with fury when I get home, the heat of it simmering in my chest, refusing to fade. My thoughts are a chaotic mess, swirling between frustration, confusion, and something darker I can’t quite place. The encounter with the man in black, the flowers, Lukin’s constant presence in the back of my mind—it’s all too much. And then, as I stand there in my apartment, the idea hits me.
I don’t want to run anymore. I don’t want to hide.
I want to take control.
I grab my phone, dialing Maria’s number before I can think it through. She answers almost immediately, her voice bright but distracted.
“Hey, girl.”
“Maria, hi.” I wrap an arm around my midriff and lower myself onto the couch. “How’s the application going?”
Maria is applying for an exchange year program in France to get away from her family’s watchful eyes and tonight, more than ever, I understand her.
She sighs. “I already sent my application a long time ago. The waiting is so, so hard, but I’ll manage. I’ve been waiting to hear back from the school. But it looks like there’s a breakthrough in sight. Fingers crossed. And what about you? What’s up?”
I can hear her typing in the background, so I take a deep breath before speaking. “I need a favor.”
“Oh? Anything,” she replies, clearly happy to help.
“I was wondering if I could use your name to get into the club again,” I ask, my voice steady, but my heart races.
There’s a pause on the other end. “Wait—the club? You want to go there again?” Her tone shifts from casual to excited. “Oh my goodness. You want to go to the club?” Maria gushes. “I’m so excited for you! Yes, girl, loosen up. Have fun! I know you’ve been working a lot. You deserve to enjoy yourself.”
I laugh, shaking my head a little. If only she knew the real reason why. I don’t even know why myself, but I can’t shake the feeling that I need to go back to the place where it all started.
“I’ll call the bouncer there and put your name on the list. Okay?” she continues, her enthusiasm unwavering.
I let out a small sigh of relief, grateful for her eagerness to help. “Thanks, Maria. I’ll be coming with someone too. Can you let the bouncer know?”
