I glance back through the half-open door. The newspaper clipping burns in my hand. “I’m back at her place.”
“And the package? Any updates?”
The diamonds. Always the fucking diamonds.
I make my decision in this moment, though it’s been building since I first read Chloe’s last name in that article. “I told you. I already searched her place. Nothing’s here. She doesn’t know anything. I need to keep searching. And some assholes have been on our tail. Gotta go.”
I hang up before he can question me further and identify the lie in my voice.
Because I do have something.
Not diamonds, but perhaps more valuable.
Information that connects Chloe directly to Roman’s past, to the night that shaped the way the Kozlov Bratva is run today.
Information I deliberately withheld from Kirill so I can puzzle more of it together.
I carefully fold the newspaper clipping and tuck it into my pocket.
This piece stays with me.
My insurance. My leverage.
My secret.
Chapter 22
Chloe
After showering, I brace my hands on the bathroom sink. A drop of water traces the curve of porcelain before vanishing down the rust ring at the drain. It’s a tiny infinity, looping forever in my head, the only thing holding me together.
School starts back up tomorrow. That’s real. The fire trucks are visiting, and I need to be alive for them. Miss Chloe, with the fire safety puppets and the “Stop, Drop, and Roll” drill. All normal things.
If I just get to school, everything will fall back into place.
Kolya’s conversation outside the window continues. “I told you. I already searched her place. Nothing’s here.”
Searched her place? Her? Meaning mine?
The words run circles in my mind. My fingers clutch the sink tighter, knuckles whitening.
When did he search my place? How? Is he even talking about me? Or am I just so full of myself that I assume everything revolves around me?
No. He must mean me.
The surety crawls in my stomach like a centipede.
“She doesn’t know anything.”
Know anything about what?
I squeeze my eyes shut and remember when he showed up at my door with that cryptic smile and my phone last week. How convenient. I drop my purse, my cell conveniently falls out, and the staff at Amalfi’s just gives it to him.
The man played me from the second I met him.
WhoisKolya, truly?
What does he want?
