Their mistake.
The warm night air caressed my skin as I stepped onto the balcony. Below, lemon trees swayed in the breeze, their citrusy scent filling the air. The drop was significant, but the abundant bougainvillea ranking along the wall should provide plenty of handholds.
Not that I was athletic by any means, and I hadn’t practiced it in the last couple of years, but if I had one superpower, it was sneaking out and hiding from guards. Those gymnastics lessons they’d forced on me as a child had proven to be useful after all.
Time to see what secrets this paradise prison was hiding.
I went to the side, swung my legs over the balcony railing, and searched for a solid foothold before committing my weight. The rough surface of the wall scraped against my palms as I descended, using the thick vines for support. My bare feet protested, but I ignored it. Pain was temporary; being trapped was worse.
A guard passed below, his boots crunching on the gravel path. I froze, pressing myself as much against the wall andinto the foliage as I could. Then I held my breath and waited until his footsteps faded.
Close one.
The night air carried voices from somewhere to my left. Shit. Just how many guards were out here this late at night?
Three more careful movements and my bare feet touched grass. I crouched in the shadows, scanning for the cameras I’d mentally cataloged this afternoon when the Zotov family escorted us here.
There—one by the lit fountain, another behind a fig tree. But between them lay a blind spot.
I slipped from shadow to shadow, cataloging every detail. The compound sprawled across several acres, with the main building designed like a luxury resort—all clean lines and modern architecture—and most likely with modern security, as well. The smaller separate buildings, like the one we, along with the Zotovs, were housed in, were sprawled across the area and kept in more modest aesthetics—idyllic and beautifully hidden beneath climbing plants and interspersed with lemon and fig trees, and all kinds of shrubbery.
Like a luxury hotel complex, seeing only security across the whole compound told another story.
Guards patrolled in precise patterns, too precise for regular hotel security. Their physiques and movements suggested that they had undergone rigorous training. The cameras were strategically placed—some obvious, others cleverly hidden in decorative elements. I bet all of them had some IR capabilities as well as motion detection.
Whoever ran this place wanted people to know they were being watched while they maintained backup surveillance the people weren’t supposed to notice.
One of the nondescript buildings caught my attention. Despite its mundane appearance, it had more guards than the other structures. Interesting. I made a mental note to investigate it further when I had the chance.
Which was not right now.
Footsteps approached.
I pressed myself deep into the lush foliage and held my breath. The leaves rustled against my skin as two figures passed nearby.
“Ivan’s acting strange,” Nina’s—Zotov’s sister’s—voice carried clearly in the night air. “Did he really just meet her a couple of days ago? I’ve never seen him this protective of anyone who wasn’t family before.”
“You mean overprotective,” Anton replied with a snort. “Did you see how he practically growled at me and Roman when we tried to be friendly?”
“Keep your voice down,” Nina hissed while they stopped right in front of me.
I froze and even held my breath.
Nina continued, “If he finds out we’re gossiping about him?—”
“What? He’ll glare at us some more?” Anton said. “Be for real, sis. We need him focused on the plan, not obsessed with some chick and hovering around her. If he gets too attached, it could ruin everything we’ve been working for.”
Nina sighed. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s never forgotten his priorities.”
Their voices faded as they continued down the path.
I remained frozen in place, ignoring the sweat building on my skin and the itchiness where leaves touched me.
But my mind was racing.
What plan were they talking about? And more importantly, why did Ivan’s apparent protectiveness threaten it? And was it really protectiveness, or was he just hovering over me because it was his job and he didn’t trust me? What were they really up to? And why would Zotov’s apparent interest in me—or who he thought was Mira—threaten whatever they had planned?
The compound suddenly felt more dangerous than before. Not just because of the guards and cameras but because of all the secrets lurking beneath its pristine surface. I hated secrets…if they weren’t my own.
