Selene leans over the rail a flight above, her hair falling forward, an inscrutable smile curving her lips. She looks like she’s stepped out of a dream—or a nightmare—unbothered by the gunfire, the body, the chaos below.
She meets my eyes, her smile widening, as if we’re sharing a private joke. “Aleksander,” she calls softly, “you’re getting slow.”
I stare at her, pulse still racing, blood roaring in my ears. Nikolai lowers his weapon, eyeing her with suspicion and something like resignation.
Selene descends the stairs slowly, her heels echoing on the metal. She steps over the body like it’s nothing more than a spilled drink. She’s dressed too well for this neighborhood—tailored coat, hair perfectly smooth, eyes sharp and bright, taking in every detail.
She stops a few steps above us, looking down. “If you two are finished making all that noise, maybe we should have a conversation somewhere less…exposed.”
Nikolai doesn’t lower his gun. “Who was he?” he asks, jerking his chin at the body.
I keep my gun trained on the body for a full second longer than I need to. The guy is done, but habits like mine do not switch off cleanly.
Selene’s smile stays in place, but her eyes flick to the dead man like she’s cataloging him, not mourning him. “A cleaner.”
I frown. “That’s not an answer.”
She shrugs. “That’s all I know. Seen this guy around for the last couple of days.” She looks down at the corpse. “I really wanted to do that. Kind of annoying, really.”
“So you don’t know who he is?” I say.
She shakes her head. “No.”
Nikolai snorts. “And you just happened to show up?”
Selene’s smile turns sly. “I was looking for Elena. She stole something that belongs to Irina.”
I take a step forward, watching her face. “What did she steal?”
Selene sighs, lowering her voice. “Not here, Aleksander. Let’s move.”
We hustle out the back, keeping to the shadows, Selene leading the way. Ten minutes later, we’re in a crowded café, tucked into a corner booth. I sit opposite her, arms folded, still tense.
“Talk,” I say.
She leans in, voice just above a whisper. “Kirov wasn’t just a passenger on that flight. He was smuggling something for Irina. Something valuable. But it disappeared after he was killed. Elena was the last person seen near his seat and the lounge. Now she’s missing, and Irina is convinced she took it.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrow. “You know what it is?”
Selene shakes her head. “Not exactly. But Irina’s tearing apart half the city looking for it. And now she thinks I know where it went—or that maybe you do.”
I look at her, trying to read the truth in her eyes. “She thinks I have it?”
She nods, a grim smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Why else do you think you and Bella became such a target,Aleksander? Irina believes you’ll do anything to keep your family safe—including using whatever Kirov brought over.”
Nikolai leans back, arms crossed, waiting.
I ask, “What the hell was it? A weapon? Money? Blackmail material?”
Selene shrugs, eyes serious now. “Something valuable enough to kill for. And dangerous enough that no one can know what it really is. That’s all I know.”
“And now everyone thinks I have it,” I mutter, jaw clenched. “And that I killed Kirov because of it.”
Selene’s expression shifts. The smile fades like it was never there. “Yes,” she says plainly.
I stare at her, trying to keep my temper in check. “You’re saying Kirov was carrying something for Irina, it goes missing, and suddenly I’m the thief and the murderer.”
“Convenient, isn’t it?” Selene says. “Kirov dies in a way that makes you look guilty just by proximity. The item vanishes. Elena disappears. Irina gets a reason to come for you without having to justify it to anyone.”
