I freeze. My eyes widen. I know that voice. A hand falls on my shoulder, firm but not aggressive, light enough to break out of if I needed to.
Idon’t. It’s over. He found me.
I turn and look at Bogdan. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, but I can feel the disappointment in them.
“You disappoint me, Gabby. Are you trying to get me in hot water with the boss?”
Now I feel like a real asshole. My posture sinks, my stomach tightening. “No, I just had to go. I couldn’t?—”
He raises his palm. “I get it. But this is the end of the line. Now unless you want to see if a pregnant lady can outrun a former D1 athlete, I recommend you come with me.”
He’s right, of course. Nothing to do but face the music.
“How did you find me?”
That question gets the first smile out of him all day. “Gabriella, you know how I operate—I always check for entrances and exits. Not to mention you had a little bit of an ‘up to something’ aura about you. I’ve got a sense for these things.”
A sigh flows from me. “I should’ve known. I’m scared, Bogdan. The babies, the assassination attempts…”
“I understand. But fleeing the city isn’t going to solve things. Your enemies will find you, and if you’re not here, Sasha and I won’t be around to protect you.”
“The country.”
“Hm?”
“I wasn’t just planning to flee the city. I was planning on leavingthe country.”
“Is that so? Where to?”
“Rome.”
He glances aside, as if imagining it. “I’ve never been.”
“Supposed to be nice this time of year.”
“Nicer than this?” He nods toward the seemingly endless gray and slush around us.
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Believe it or not, yeah.”
He motions toward the sidewalk. “Come. I’m in a parking garage just down Jackson. We’ll be back home in a half hour.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
He touches the small of my back, telling me without words to start walking. “Now that’s a tough one. I tell Sasha, and I get the kudos for stopping you. But that puts you in… how do Americans say? Quite a cucumber.”
“A pickle,” I correct, smiling faintly.
“I was close. Anyway, let me think about it. Maybe if you don’t try to run off on the way to the car, we can work something out.”
“Deal.”
We walk side-by-side down the street, turning onto Jackson. I glance over my shoulder at Union Station—almost my escape route. Not a word is exchanged between us as we enter the garage, making our way to the elevator.
On the way up, Bogdan sighs. “Gabriella,” he says quietly. “There’s something you should know before you go home.Something you need to know. It’s about why you’re running in the first place.”
I blink, suddenly feeling uneasy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not just running from theBratva, Gabriella. You’re running from blood.”
