The line goes dead, and I toss the phone onto the console. Then I glance at Vivika and find her staring straight ahead, her hands clenched in her lap, and she's trembling and terrified. Some fucking bastard tried to touch something I've staked a claim on, and looking at her, I can see how much it's affected her.
"Hey." I reach over and take her hand, squeezing gently. "You're okay. We're okay."
"Someone tried to kill me." Her voice is barely above a frightened whisper, but she looks at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
"Someone tried to killme," I correct her, though even as I say it, I'm not sure it's true. "You just happened to be there."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Tears streak down her cheeks and she jerks away from my grip, so I let her have space. She was so open to me, wrapped around my finger so tightly this morning that we really connected, and then this happened. It's infuriating that I can't control circumstances outside of my house like I control the thermostat indoors.
I drive in silence, listening to her cry softly without any way to help her. I'm not a comforting sort of man. My job is to train her and make her obey, not coddle her like a mother hen. But I also don't want to push her past the point of no return where she starts rebelling. I'm stuck, so I shut up.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the driveway of my townhouse and cut the engine, turning to face her in the darkness. She's not sobbing anymore, but she's still sniffling and it still hurts me. "I won't lie to you, Vivika. This is dangerous, more dangerous than I thought it would be. But you handled yourself really welltonight. You kept your head when most people would've fallen apart."
She looks at me, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I was terrified."
"So was I." It's not entirely true, but it's close enough. "Being scared doesn't matter. What matters is what you do when you're scared. And you did exactly what you needed to do."
She nods slowly as some of the tension drains from her shoulders. I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles, holding her gaze as I do.
"Come on," I coax, kissing her one more time. "We should get inside in case we were followed. My place is a fortress. No one can get in there, alright? We're safe now."
I don't know if that's true anymore. I'm not sure anywhere is truly safe now. But I lead her into the house anyway, locking the door behind us and setting the alarm, and I don't let go of her hand until we're standing in the middle of my living room with the curtains drawn and the lights low.
Someone wants us dead.
I intend to find out exactly who before they get another chance.
And when I find them, they'll regret ever pulling that trigger.
12
VIVIKA
Ican't stop thinking about the way the glass exploded inward, glittering as it rained down on the screaming guests. The sound of it shattering is lodged in my brain, playing on repeat every time I close my eyes. I barely slept last night, and when I did manage to drift off, I dreamed of bullets and blood and Lev's body covering mine while men chased us.
"You need to eat something."
Lev's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look down at the plate in front of me, untouched and growing cold. We're sitting at his kitchen table with a laptop open between us, video footage of Ana Veche frozen on the screen. I'm so fucking tired of looking at Ana Veche. Lev calls these "lessons", and I hate them. If becoming Ana Veche means taking on attacks meant for her too, I want nothing to do with it.
"I'm fine," I say, pushing the plate away.
"You haven't eaten since dinner. You're going to make yourself sick."
"Maybe I'm already sick." I meet his eyes across the table. "Maybe I'm sick of all of this."
Lev's jaw tightens but he doesn't respond. He reaches over and taps the spacebar to start the video playing again, and Ana Veche walks into a room full of men in expensive suits, her head held high and her stride confident. I watch her shake hands with someone whose face has been blurred out. She smiles, but everything about her seems shallow. Not at all the type of woman I want to be.
"Watch how she greets him," Lev says. "The way she extends her hand, palm down. It's a power move."
"I don't care."
He pauses the video. "Excuse me?"
"I said I don't care." I push back from the table and stand up, making my chair legs scrape against the floor. "Someone tried to kill me last night, Lev. And you want me to sit here watching videos like nothing happened?"
"The shots weren't meant for you," he grumbles and presses pause again. The frustration scrawled in deep crevices on his forehead is painfully obvious. I've never acted out until now. I've been his little obedient puppet, but someone shooting at me rattled something loose. I won't just sit here and be executed without fighting back.
"How can you possibly know that?" My arms fly up in the air dramatically, but I'm afraid. That really fucked with my head.
