I nod, backing off. No sense in making a scene and getting detained myself. As I turn, I catch a glimpse—a white dress shirt, one sleeve hanging limply. Someone’s arm, slack, exposed, draped over the aisle. The crew moves to block the view, but it’s burned into my mind.
My pulse is up now, senses sharper, scanning every detail. Was this random? A fight? Something planned? Too many questions and not enough answers.
I head back down, my brain working through possibilities. I’m already cataloging faces, remembering who was seated where, who might have moved. My instincts are screaming at me—this wasn’t just an accident. Somebody wanted this to happen.
I find Bella in her suite, her daughter curled tight in her lap, face hidden in her mother’s chest. She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine for answers. I kneel beside her, speaking low.
“It’s real. Crew found a man dead. The police are meeting the flight when we land.” I see fear flicker across her face, and I reach for her hand, squeezing it hard. “It’s going to be alright.Just stay with her. Don’t talk to anyone else. If anything feels off, you find me, alright?”
Bella nods, her grip tightening in return. I can see she’s scared, but she’s trying to keep it together for her kid. For a moment, the world shrinks to just us, the hum of disaster blurring everything else.
I scan the aisle again. Someone on this plane is dangerous. And I won’t rest until I know who.
I leave Bella with her daughter and head toward the back, weaving through clusters of anxious passengers. The tension is thick; everyone is whispering, side-eying strangers, wondering what kind of flight they’ve ended up on.
Economy is packed and restless—passengers are buzzing with rumors, some looking half-asleep, others craning for news. I ignore them all, eyes searching until I spot Nikolai slumped across two cramped seats near the rear exit, arms folded, mouth slightly open, a light snore escaping him.
I nudge his foot. “Nikolai. Wake up.”
He grunts, squints up at me, face sour. “First class not good enough for you, boss?”
I give him a look. “Dead body in business class.”
That wakes him up. He straightens, wipes a hand over his face, eyes narrowing. “Dead body? Who?”
“Don’t know yet. Crew’s being tight-lipped. There was blood. Police are meeting us when we land.” I keep my voice low enough so only he can hear. “Come on,” I mutter. “We need to talk. Somewhere quieter.”
He gives me a sour look, but gets up, following me to the tiny space by the galley doors, away from nosy passengers and the aisle bustle. The hum of the engines and the clatter from the catering carts help mask our voices.
“The dead body they found,” Nikolai says. “You think it’s related to us?”
“Could be. Kirov’s on this flight. Saw him right after takeoff.” Just saying his name tastes like old blood.
Nikolai’s whole posture changes, a new tension in his shoulders. “Kirov? He’s here? On this plane?”
I nod, remembering the flash of that cold, predatory smile. “He’s not here for a vacation, and I almost ended up in a fight with him in the lounge. He wanted to make a scene. I walked away.”
Nikolai curses under his breath in Russian, dark and guttural. “Why didn’t you tell me? Boss, you know better. That man’s a viper. He set us up with that fake deal only to pull it from right under us.”
I keep my eyes on the floor for a second, feeling the old scar itch. “I know. I thought if I ignored him, he’d back off. I don’t know why he was acting like an idiot. Didn’t want you getting detained before we even took off.”
Nikolai shakes his head. “You should have told me. Kirov never travels alone. His crew’s probably scattered all over this plane. If there’s a dead body, and Kirov’s here, we have to assume this was planned. Or it’s just beginning.”
He runs a hand over his face, scanning the galley for anyone eavesdropping. “And we can’t do shit about it in here. No guns, not even a decent knife. We’re sitting ducks.”
“We stay alert. Watch who moves.”
Nikolai starts to turn away, but I catch his arm. “One more thing,” I say, lowering my voice even further. “Bella’s here. With her daughter.”
He squints, searching his memory. “Bella? The one I booked the ticket for?”
I nod. “Ring any bells?”
“Wait, don’t tell me it’sthatBella?” He says it like the name is a ghost, half-remembered from a story he never got to finish.
“Yeah,” I confirm, feeling something tense inside me. “She doesn’t know anything about Kirov. I need her protected—her and the girl. At all costs.”
Nikolai studies me, his eyes narrow and unreadable. He doesn’t know the details, not really. He just remembers that one night I came back with a wild look in my eyes, and she was already gone. No explanations, no goodbyes. Just vanished.
