My fingers tighten on Lily’s back.
Every muscle in my body goes still.
Irina’s gaze flicks to my face, catching the reaction. “He walked into your life, and you let him in. You thought it would be a night, maybe two. A story to laugh about later. You had no idea where he really came from, or who was watching him.”
My mouth goes dry. I don’t say his name. I don’t have to. I see a hotel room, an elevator, his hands, his voice. The note I left. The look on his face on the plane.
She’s talking about Aleksander.
I swallow hard, not confirming his name. But I know I can’t just pretend I don’t know him, not with her. She sees through everything.
Irina goes on, voice calm, almost bored. “Men like him don’t come without consequences. When you touch that world, it marks you, whether you notice or not.”
“I left,” I say, the words coming out sharper than I intend. “I ran. I disappeared. I didn’t ask for anything. I didn’t want anything from him.”
“I know,” she says simply.
That throws me. “Then why am I here?”
Irina turns to fully face me now. Up close, I can see the fine lines around her mouth, the set of a woman who has clenched her jaw for years.
“Because wanting nothing doesn’t erase what already happened,” she says.
I shake my head. “You’re overestimating whatever that was. I’m not important.”
A small, humorless smile touches her lips. “You really have no idea, do you?”
“About what?” I whisper.
“How much bigger you are in his world than you realize,” she says.
I stare at her. “I was just…a mistake. A complication.”
Irina’s eyes harden. “If you were just a complication, you wouldn’t be here. I don’t waste time on wallpaper.”
Lily shifts in my arms, making a soft little sound. I press my cheek to her hair, trying to steady myself.
“So this is punishment,” I say. “For crossing some invisible line I didn’t know existed.”
“This is consequence,” Irina replies. “You can call it whatever helps you sleep.”
“I can’t sleep,” I say, voice cracking. “You broke into an apartment. You scared my child. You dragged us away from the only person I trusted. For something that isn’t even my fight.”
Irina’s gaze sharpens. “It became your fight the moment you let him touch your life.”
I swallow hard. The memory of his hands on my skin, of his voice in the dark, feels suddenly dangerous instead of intoxicating.
“And now?” I ask. “What happens now?”
“For now, you stay here,” she says. “You eat. You rest. The child recovers from whatever this latest nightmare has done to her. You stay alive.”
“As leverage,” I say, the word bitter on my tongue.
She doesn’t flinch. “As insurance,” she corrects.
“For who?” I push.
Irina’s expression closes up again, shutters coming down. “That’s not your concern. Your concern is that this house is the only place you’re not exposed to people far less…restrained than I am.”
