Pyotr nods. “I’ll arrange a secure line. But Kira needs to come home first. When Bogdan finds out you’ve flipped sides, he’ll try to get to her.”
“Can you—” I stop myself, then push forward anyway. “Would you come with me to pick her up? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He says it like it’s something so obvious that it doesn’t require discussion.
I want to kiss him again. I want to climb into his lap and lose myself in his hands and forget that I have to face my cousin and confess to years of coerced betrayal. I want to pretend that the world outside this apartment doesn’t exist, that it’s just the two of us and this fragile thing growing between us.
But a five-year-old girl across town needs her mother, and for the first time since Kira was born, I think her mother can finally give her something better than fear.
17
Pyotr
I’m about to bet everything on a woman I’ve known for fourteen days.
Kira sits cross-legged on the living room floor with her dinosaurs arranged in what she’s informed me is a very important meeting. Something about the T. Rex being in trouble for eating all the snacks.
I’d find it funny if I wasn’t about to make a phone call that could end my career… or my life.
Daria is at the kitchen counter with her arms wrapped around herself. She’s been quiet since we picked up Kira this morning. The drive home was filled with her daughter’s chatter about pancakes and Natasha’s cat, but the moment we walked through the door, reality settled back in.
“Kira, sweetheart.” Daria prompts her daughter, “why don’t you take your dinosaurs to your room? They can have their meeting on your bed.”
“But Mama, the living room is better for meetings because it’s bigger.”
“I know, baby, but Pyotr and I need to make an important phone call, and it’s going to be boring grownup stuff.”
Kira wrinkles her nose. “How boring?”
“Very boring. Taxes and paperwork.”
That does the trick. She scoops up her dinosaurs and trudges toward her bedroom with the dramatic sigh of a child being subjected to unimaginable injustice.
“She’ll stay in there for at least an hour if she thinks we’re talking about taxes.” Daria chuckles nervously.
“Smart kid.”
“She gets it from me.” A ghost of a smile crosses her face before it fades. “Are you sure about this? Once you make that call, there’s no taking it back.”
“I’m sure.”
“Dmitri could decide I’m guilty. He could decide you’ve been compromised. He could?—”
“Daria.” I walk into the kitchen and stop in front of her. “I’ve thought through every scenario. I know what I’m risking. The question is whether you’re ready to hear his decision.”
She takes a breath and squares her shoulders. “I’m ready. I’ve been running long enough.”
She’s standing close enough that I can smell her shampoo. The same scent was all over my pillow this morning. My fingerstwitch at my side, remembering the way her skin felt under my hands last night.
The urge to pull her in hits so fast that I lock my jaw to keep my body in line.
Not now. Focus.
I pull out the secure phone Dmitri issued me and dial. It rings twice before he picks up.
“Report.”
