I stand up, ignoring the pain shooting through my body. “We’re done here. Focus on finding Zimniy and Alena. That’s the priority.”
As I turn to leave, Erik’s voice stops me. “You can’t avoid this forever, D.”
I don’t turn around. “Watch me.”
I storm out, slamming the door behind me. My feet carry me down the hall, no destination in mind. Just… away.
Wren’s face flashes in my mind. That last kiss, three weeks ago. The way she looked at me before walking away.
My chest aches.Fuck. What is this?
I find myself in my office, reaching for the bottle of vodka in my desk drawer. The liquid burns down my throat, a welcome distraction.
One drink. Two. Three.
It doesn’t help. I can still see her. Still feel her.
“Yob tvoyu mat,” I mutter, running a hand over my face.
A knock at the door. “What?” I snarl.
Erik steps in, eyebrow raised. “Feeling better?”
I glare at him. “Fuck off.”
He ignores me, closing the door and leaning against it. “We need to talk about Wren.”
“No, we don’t,” I growl.
Erik sighs. “D, you’re my friend. But you’re also the boss. And right now, you’re compromised.”
I stand up, fists clenched. “Say that again. I dare you.”
He doesn’t flinch. “You’re compromised. And it’s putting us all at risk. Wren, especially. She’s vulnerable now, a pawn in this game. We have to be strategic, or she’s gonna end up collateral damage.”
I slump back into my chair, suddenly exhausted. “What do you want me to do?”
Erik’s voice softens. “Deal with it. Whatever this is… figure it out. Before it gets us all killed.”
I nod, not looking at him. “Fine. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” he says, heading for the door. “Stop drinking alone in your office. It’s pathetic.”
I flip him off as he leaves, but my heart’s not in it.
Alone again, I stare at the half-empty bottle. Wren’s face swims in my vision.
Suka, you’re a sick fuck.
I slouch in the corner of the Ritz-Carlton’s 40th-floor lounge, nursing a glass of Macallan 25. The Chicago skyline stretches out beyond the windows, all glitter and glass. It’s early, the bar’s still quiet. Just how I need it.
The waitress approaches, lips stretched wide. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
I wave her off without a word. She scurries away. Smart girl.
My eyes keep darting to the staff entrance. She’s not here yet. Fuck, what am I even doing here?
I drain my glass, the whiskey burning a path down my throat. It doesn’t help. Nothing does these days.
