But we’re not kids anymore. Our bond has changed.
“You want results from me,” I say. “You’ll get them.”
“I better. You have twenty-four hours to prove that Archer isn’t a ghost in the wind with my money and that my guns aren’t scattered all across New Jersey. Only five days left to retrieve it all.”
He leaves the way he came after reminding me of his beloved deadlines.
I drag in a breath and let it out slowly, testing the wound beneath the bandage. Pain answers, but it’s manageable. I lean against the wall just as Alina comes out of the bathroom, pretending she wasn’t listening to every hitch in my breath.
She steps into the room, and I feel her eyes on me, her mind processing what she heard. I hold her stare for two seconds and break it first.
“He still wants me,” she says.
“Men always want what they can’t have,” I reply. “Especially rich, powerful ones.”
“You can’t keep doing that,” she remarks, and her voice starts to shake. “You can’t keep putting yourself between me and everything else. You can’t keep bleeding for me.”
“I can and I will because…” I start and struggle for the right words. “Because it’s my job.”
“No, it’s not,” she says, and then drops her gaze to my side, to the bandage where the edges have gone darker. I watch her choose to step toward me even though every smart thing in herwants to step back. She’s close enough that when she speaks again, her voice carries the heat from her throat. “Sit down,” she says. Something steadies in her, a thread of steel I didn’t see before. And for the first time, I’m the one who obeys. I’d rather die than give a man that victory, but for her I sit.
I need a chance to wrap my head around my new deadline anyway.
Twenty-four hours to find evidence of where Archer has run off to, and where the guns are stored.
Alina abruptly leaves the room. She returns with a tray a few moments later, setting it on the nightstand.
“You should eat something and then get some rest,” she murmurs finally.
“That’s my line,” I remind her rougher than I intended. Her eyes flicker to mine, sharp, assessing, then she nods once and turns away.
If Gavriil had tried harder, had wanted to prove his point that I’m weak, she might already be gone. The thought is enough to make my fists clench until they ache.
“Go. You’ve done enough,” I tell her. I like having her fussing over me more than I can admit to myself.
Alina hesitates, as if my sudden dismissal hits her like a physical blow. Then, she walks out and closes the door behind her without another word.
I know that I shouldn’t take my anger, my weaknesses, out on her. It’s unfair. But in a way, I do blame her.
For showing up into my life unexpectedly, and for dominating my every waking thought, even my dreams.
15
Dominik
Another knock comes an hour later,brisk, businesslike. Definitely not Alina returning with pills, water, or food for me.
Viktor steps inside only after I answer. His expression is stony, but I catch the flicker of relief when he sees me upright. “Boss,” he says, then pauses as if he wants to comment on things that will get him a month of outside guard duty. He knows what Alina is to me, certainly more than a hostage. He also knows what she’s becoming: the reason my brother tried to push me and the reason I bled yesterday.
“Give me an update,” I say.
He lays it out clean. Every man on the street knows what happened with the bikers, and they’re already spinning it. The Morozov underboss bled, thePakhan’sbrother, so maybe the Bratva’s control is slipping. Rumors spread faster than bullets in this city, and if I don’t crush them, they’ll bloom into weeds that threaten everything we’ve built.
“Do we know the numbers for the bikers?” I ask.
“Three are confirmed dead. One badly injured. The rest scattered. They won’t stay quiet for long.”
“They’ll wish they had,” I mutter.
