Safe.
Surrounded by the things that matter to her.
It’s not much of a plan. But it’s the only promise I can make that I know I’ll keep.
29
Sasha
London looks exactly the same, which somehow makes everything feel worse.
The flight from Moscow took just under four hours, and I spent most of it staring out the window while Tony pretended to read a newspaper beside me.
We didn’t talk much. There wasn’t anything to say that we hadn’t already covered in the briefings, and besides, commercial flights aren’t exactly ideal for discussing tactical operations against obsessed ex-colleagues.
Now our cab crawls through evening traffic toward the hotel Boris arranged, and I watch the familiar streets pass by with a strange ache in my chest. I lived here for two years. Built a career here. Thought I’d found a version of myself that existed entirely separate from the Kozlov name and everything it carries.
That woman feels like a stranger now.
“You okay?” Tony asks as his hand finds mine on the seat between us.
“Fine. Just strange being back.”
He squeezes my fingers but doesn’t push for more. That’s one of the things I’ve come to appreciate about him. He knows when to ask questions and when to let silence do the work.
The cab turns onto Cromwell Road, and I spot the Natural History Museum on our left. I used to cut through its grounds on rainy days, ducking under the arched entrance to avoid the worst of the weather. The memory feels like it belongs to someone else.
The hotel is a boutique property in South Kensington that I used to walk past on my way to the V&A. I never imagined I’d stay here under these circumstances. The lobby is all marble floors and fresh flowers, and the staff greets us hospitably as Tony handles the check-in.
“Mr. and Mrs. Haugh,” the concierge confirms as she slides two key cards across the counter. “The Thames Suite, as requested. Shall I have your bags sent up?”
“Please,” Tony replies without correcting her, which makes my heart flutter for reasons I have no time or energy to examine too closely.
We ride the elevator in silence, and when Tony opens the door to our suite, I have to admit Boris chose well. The room is elegant without being ostentatious, with a sitting area, a king-sized bed, and windows that showcase a stunning view of the Thames.
“Not bad,” Tony comments before setting down his carry-on bag.
“Boris has good taste when he’s spending Dmitri’s money.”
That earns me a small smile. “You want to rest before tonight, or should we go over the plan again?”
“Neither.” I cross to the window and look out at the river. Boats drift past, and I can see the London Eye in the distance against the darkening sky. “I want to get the Christie’s meeting over with.”
“That’s not until tomorrow morning.”
“I know. I just hate waiting.” I turn to face him. “And I hate that you’ll be across the city with Adrian while I’m there.”
“It’s the only way this works.” Tony comes to stand beside me and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Adrian expects a progress report. If I don’t show up alone, he’ll know something’s wrong. And while I’m keeping him occupied, you gather whatever intel your former colleagues have on his recent movements.”
“I remember the briefing.”
“I know you do. I’m just reminding myself.” He starts massaging and continues, “These are people you worked with. People you trusted. That makes it harder.”
“And while I’m facing them, you’ll be sitting across from a man who wants my family destroyed, pretending you’re still on his side.” I shake my head. “I’m not sure which of us has the worse assignment.”
His breath ghosts across the back of my neck as he replies, “I’ve been lying to Adrian for weeks. A few more hours won’t kill me. But being away from you while you’re exposed… That’s the part I don’t like.”
“I’ll be fine. Petra and the others don’t have any reason to suspect anything.”
