His grip around my waist tightened. “This isn’t over, Shorty.”
I yanked free, letting my lips curl into a mocking smile. “This never started, Zotov.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” His eyes burned into mine, promising future confrontations.
“Keep deluding yourself that you’re in control here.” I turned away and faced the guy, who looked from me to Zotov before he stepped to the side.
I took an assertive step, but Zotov’s hand immediately found my lower back, guiding or pushing me firmly down the narrow aisle.
I met Mira’s worried gaze as we approached. The slight furrow between her brows, the way she twisted her hands in her lap—my sister had always been worse than I was at hiding her anxiety. I slipped into the seat beside her and turned to her, positioning myself between her and Zotov like a shield and blocking him out.
I could feel his eyes on me as he moved past us, but instead of taking the seat opposite us like before, he passed us and sat down farther away but directly in my line of sight.
I ignored him and focused on Mira’s presence beside me. She leaned closer, her shoulder pressing against mine in silent support.
Throughout the long-ass flight, I felt Zotov’s gaze like a physical weight. But at least he kept his distance and made no more attempts to engage with Mira or me.
Small victories.
I didn’t know what our destination was exactly, but we’d crossed the ocean and time zones for sure. I should’ve asked him about our destination instead of verballysparring with him. At least then I could mentally prepare for wherever he was taking us.
But I didn’t want to break our temporary peace treaty.
I moved my feet and tried to find a more comfortable position.
The gentle hum of the engines and Mira’s steady breathing beside me gradually lulled me into letting my guard down. My eyes grew heavy as exhaustion from the past few hours caught up with me. As I drifted to sleep, my mind raced through possibilities—was he bringing us to Russia?
Probably not—they still needed us to pressure Vince into doing whatever they wanted him to do. So, at least for now, we still had value. And I would keep us both safe from whatever game Zotov and the mysterious Mr. Grey were playing.
11
IVAN
The jet’s wheels touched down with practiced precision, but my attention was fixed on the twins. They both looked drained, which wasn’t surprising given our journey halfway around the globe. They’d slept on and off. But when Shorty finally succumbed to exhaustion after our little run-in in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes off of her. She’d rested her head against her sister’s shoulder, and the vulnerability in her face twisted something inside my chest.
Some kind of completely misplaced protective instinct.
Damn. What the hell was going on with me? Emotional detachment was usually child’s play. It was really time to get out of this job, out from under Grey’s thumb and the Paraskia’s influence.
The plans to go independent had been in place for months. Now it was high time to set them in motion. And it shouldn’t be that hard. I just needed Grey and the Paraskia council to agree to and support our decision. Wewere willing to cooperate with the Paraskia Syndicate in the future, so not much would change. Apart from us having our freedom. Not being someone else’s top dog, not having someone yanking my chain, as Shorty had put it.
Shorty.
Earlier, when she’d shut down at my touch, the terror in her eyes had been visceral, raw. I’d seen that look before—in the fighting rings, in mirrors, in the faces of others who’d experienced and survived things they shouldn’t have had to. The clinical part of my brain had already cataloged her reaction—added it to the growing list of inconsistencies in her file. But the rest of me…the part of me that was still thinking about her, that wanted to know more about her, that wanted to know everything…that part made it harder to compartmentalize.
Through the window, I spotted Grey’s tall figure on the tarmac, his usual pristine suit a stark contrast to the Mediterranean setting.
What the fuck? He was here? In fifteen years, I’d never seen him personally show up to welcome someone, never seen him display such obvious anticipation.
My gaze shifted back to Shorty and her sister. They looked composed now, but I knew they were probably scared.
Not that they had any reason to be. They were only here as leverage against Vince Salvini, right? I narrowed my brows and looked back at Grey. Because the Paraskia’s methods of extracting information weren’t known for their gentle nature…well, they weren’t known at all. Did Grey have a hidden agenda? What if they separated the sisters…and Shorty wasn’t able to protect her sister? I’d seen stronger people break under less. I shook the thought off. That wasn’t the case here.
The plane came to a complete stop.
I should just distance myself, get this handoff over with, and forget about them. But I hesitated.
I didn’t trust Grey. Didn’t trust everything was as black and white as it seemed. Which might be a tactical error—this unwanted protectiveness. Yet I couldn’t quite bring myself to just turn my back.
