Three days for Archer, six remaining days for me. Gavriil lives for impossible deadlines because he likes watching men sweat.
I can live with blood on my hands; it’s what I was born to do. What I can’t live with is the kind of stain that comes from hurting someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.
I open Archer’s message thread of unanswered texts from me, delivered but not read and no replies.
Attach. Attach. Attach.
Alina’s face shrinks into small thumbnails. Archer will have no choice but to open them.
ME:You have 72 hours. Bring the $2,000,000 in cash. You’ll receive a location 1 hour before the deadline. Delay, and she starts paying your debt.
Send.
Delivered.
I add a second message before he can pretend he didn’t read the first:
ME:No cops. No friends. If I see a tail, she bleeds.
A lie, but a necessary one.
I watch the screen while my fingers tap impatiently on the desk until movement at the door catches my attention.
Alina.
Wearing jeans and a blue tee, her feet are bare, and her damp hair is still pulled up as she walks in without knocking. She looks slightly less furious in her normal clothing.
“Have you sent the photos?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Has he responded?”
“Not yet.”
She stands there until I nod toward the chair. “Sit.”
She does without comment. Then, “How long did you give him?”
“Seventy-two hours. Gavriil’s deadline,” I answer to remind her of who is in charge.
“What if he’s not in the country?” she questions, as if we haven’t thought of that.
“There are few places on Earth you can’t get back to New York City from in three days,” I remark.
She exhales. “Right. So, now we just wait.”
“Yes,” I answer.
Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt, her eyes lowered. “And you sent the photos to Gavriil too, didn’t you?”
“You have a lot of questions for someone who slapped me and thinks that earned her privileges,” I grit out, unable to believe how hard she hit me. My cheek still burns.
Alina doesn’t shrink, doesn’t back down. “I’m not going to apologize.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” I tell her honestly as I lean back in my chair. “Just like I don’t expect an apology for my busted nose or torn up hands either. You’ve endured more the last two days than most could stomach, and you’ve done nothing wrong to deserve it.”
She nods her head in agreement. “I hated it. But I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Archer alive.”
