The guilt is eating me from the inside out.
But at least Lauren talked to me. Didn’t shut me out completely.
It’s more than I deserve.
And maybe—if I can keep them alive—it might be enough to build on.
Chapter Ten
Lauren
I peer out the window at unfamiliar buildings stretching toward the sky.
Chicago.
We arrived late last night. Nikolai kept checking over his shoulder the entire drive, watching for any sign we’d been followed. He parked outside the apartment building and rushed us inside like we were fugitives.
He said Chicago was safe. Beyond Aslanov’s reach. But he’s still on edge, constantly alert, watching for threats I can’t see.
Maybe it’s paranoia. Or maybe he knows something I don’t.
Either way, I’m glad he’s vigilant. For Hannah’s sake.
Hannah tugs on my hand, and I crouch down beside her at the window, careful not to stand too close to the glass. The sun is setting, washing the buildings in pale orange light. It looks different here than in Atlanta. Harsher somehow. Less like home.
“You guys okay?”
Nikolai’s voice behind me sends an unwelcome flutter through my chest. The same thing happened last night. My body remembering before my mind can stop it.
“We’re fine,” I say without turning around.
He steps closer anyway. I can feel him there, just a few feet away.
“You’re safe here,” he says quietly. “I promise.”
Something in his voice loosens the knot that’s been sitting in my stomach since the break-in. That deep, steady certainty.The same tone that used to make me feel like nothing could touch us.
I hate that it still works.
I glance back at him briefly, then away. Looking at him too long makes everything more complicated. Makes me remember things I can’t afford to remember right now.
Four years I spent believing he was gone. Four years of rebuilding myself into someone who could function without him. And now he’s here, and my body won’t stop reacting like no time has passed at all.
But I can’t go there. Can’t let myself fall back into orbit around him when I have Hannah to think about. She’s the only thing that matters. Keeping her safe. Getting through this. That’s the only reason I’m here. The only reason I got in his car. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
“Mommy.” Hannah squeezes my hand. “Where are we?”
“Chicago, baby.”
“I want to go home.”
The words pierce straight through me. “I know, sweetheart. But we can’t. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Shit.
How am I supposed to answer that? Do I tell her that we’re hiding from the world’s most dangerous Bratva boss? That her father isn’t actually dead? That the stranger who saved our lives last night is the same man she’s been having dreams about?
