"I promise," I say. Kirill clears his throat. "We'll help you get set up wherever you go. Money, security, whatever you need."
"Thank you," I say.
"When are you leaving?" Roman asks quietly. "Soon," I say. "Maybe tomorrow. I just need to handle something tonight first." My father pulls back, looking at me with concern. "What do you need to handle?"
"I'm meeting with Ilay," I say. "One last time. To try to talk some sense into him."
"Absolutely not," my father says immediately. "You're not going anywhere near that man alone."
"I have to," I say. "It's the only way. He needs to hear from me that this is over."
"Then I'm coming with you," Roman says.
"No," I say firmly. "This is something I need to do alone. Please. Just trust me."
They exchange glances, clearly unhappy, but finally my father nods. "Alright. But you call us the second you're done. Understand?"
"I understand," I say.
• • •
Later, I make my way to the medical wing of the estate. The doctor, an older man named Dr. Petrov, looks up when I enter. "Miss Iris. What can I do for you?"
"Do you have very strong sleeping pills?" I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. "Why would you need very strong sleeping pills?"
"I'm having terrible headaches," I say. "I can't sleep."
He studies me for a moment, then nods. "Alright. Let me get them for you." He leaves and comes back a few minutes later with a small bottle. "These are the strongest we have. It's best if you break one in half and take it. Don't take a whole pill."
"How effective are they?" I ask.
"If you gave three of these to a horse," he says seriously, "the horse would be asleep in less than an hour."
"And for humans?"
"Half a pill," he repeats firmly. "That's all you need."
I nod, taking the bottle. "Thank you."
• • •
Back in my room, I pull out my phone and see a text from Ilay, it’s the address of the hotel in the city center, and its neutral ground.
I reply within seconds:I'll be there in an hour.
• • •
I spend that hour pacing the hotel room after I arrive early to prepare, my hands shaking as I go over the plan in my head again and again, the small bottle of sedatives hidden in my purse feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
I order wine from room service, then when it arrives, I carefully grind up four pills into a fine powder using the back of a spoon, watching them dissolve into one of the wine glasses, the dark red liquid hiding any trace of what I've done.
When the knock comes at the door, my heart nearly stops. I take a breath, smooth down my dress, then open it. Ilay stands there in a black suit, his hair slightly disheveled like he ran his hands through it too many times on the drive over, holding a bouquet of yellow flowers.
"For you," he says, extending them toward me. I take them without a word and set them on the table beside the wine. He steps inside, those dark eyes scanning me from head to toe, then he closes the door behind him. "You actually came," he says, his voice low.
"You threatened to blow up my family's house," I say, crossing my arms. "What choice did I have?"
