I amended my question to Igor. “Were you ordered by your Pakhan to kill me…” I paused as if an idea just occurred to me. “Or anyone else around me?”
That was an indirect way of asking about Gemma. Dmitri would just assume I was talking about my parents.
“No,” Igor said. “Our operation doesn’t really care about you that much. I only reacted tonight, because I thought you’d caught onto me.”
He shrugged, or at least attempted to in his current position.
Gemma and I were safe… for now.
Some of the tension disappeared from my shoulders along with the adrenaline that’d been running through my veins. A yawn popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“Go home, Alisa. I’ll handle the rest.”
Confusion glazed my mind as the totality of the evening hit me. Dmitri was risking so much by involving himself.
Gangsters never did things out of the kindness of their heart. I couldn’t imagine what had motivated the most ruthless one alive.
“Why are you helping me, Dmitri?” I asked quietly.
“You aren’t allowed to die yet, Alisa.” Dmitri’s gaze scorched against my skin. “Not before I break you.”
Chapter nine
Alisa
A week passed.
An agonizing week of looking over my shoulder for mobsters seeking retribution for Igor.
I’d felt the sharp sting of stares, and could’ve sworn I heard the patter of footsteps outside my window. Yet every time I checked, I never caught signs of a predator.
Somehow, the echoes of the dark look in Dmitri’s eyes when he made that promise were even more insidious. I’d spent hours in the shower attempting to relieve the building pressure, panting as I tried not to visualize those scorching eyes. It probably doubled my water bill, but no matter how hard I blasted the showerhead’s waves against my body, it never seemed to be enough.
A knock drummed against my flimsy wood door. I jumped even though I knew who would be there.
Gemma was all smiles as she sashayed into my apartment with some chocolate flavored wine.
I glanced into the hallway behind her, and found it thankfully empty.
“I’m going to have to keep my coat on, aren’t I?” she grumbled when she settled on the couch, glaring at the broken heater like it’d personally offended her.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that bad,” I said, pouring her a generous helping of wine.
“That’s because a cold freeze hasn’t hit yet. You’re going to need to find someone to shack up with. Preferably someone with central air,” she said the last two words longingly.
Intense gray eyes flashed across my mind.
Absolutely not. I chugged some wine.
Yes, he’d saved me that night. But he also murdered my brother right in front of me, and ignored me when I’d begged him not to.
It was just hate-lust. It’d pass.
“You know you can stay with me if it gets bad,” she said, her lips tugging down into a frown. “My apartment’s a shithole, but at least my heater works.”
I couldn’t help a smile. She was so sweet. But there was a reason I lived on my own. With all my disguises, I needed to be able to walk out while remaining anonymous. I couldn’t have her catching on.
Plus, the perpetual darkness outside my building shielded me from prying eyes. I needed to work in the shadows, and I refused to bring my shadows back to Gemma.
