“But I’m not,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say softly, honest as a blade. “But I am. And I’ll guide you. Every step.”
She nods against my chest, small and resolute, like the decision costs her something precious. Then she curls closer, tucking herself into me as if the world can’t reach her here.
Her eyes squeeze shut.
And I hold her.
Almost an hour later, her breathing changes. It slows, deepens, and evens out as sleep finally claims her. I stay still for a moment, memorizing the weight of her, the warmth, the quiet. Then I carefully slide out of bed, making sure she doesn’t stir, and take my phone with me.
The hallway is dim as I move quickly, barefoot against cold marble. I dial Konstantin before doubt can catch me.
He answers on the fourth ring.
“Send me an address,” I say without preamble. “I need your help.”
There’s a pause on the other end. Just long enough to register. Then, “Okay,” he says, and the line goes dead.
As I reach the foyer, my phone buzzes. A location link flashes on the screen.
“Where are you going?”
Marko’s voice cuts through the silence.
I turn. He’s halfway down the stairs, hair mussed, eyes sharp despite the hour. Always alert. Always watching.
“Go back to sleep,” I say.
“No.” He descends another step. “Tell me.”
I exhale. “I’m going to see Konstantin. I got new information about what happened. He can help.”
Marko’s jaw tightens. “Then I’m coming.”
“No.”
He almost smiles. “You can’t stop me.”
He’s right, and we both know it. I’m wasting time arguing. I shake my head once, sharp and resigned, then turn and head for the door.
Behind me, I hear his footsteps follow.
Marko takes the wheel. The engine hums low as we cut through the sleeping city, streetlights sliding over the windshield in pale streaks. The night feels electric. My pulse matches the speed of the car. Viktor Mikhailov is finally within reach, and the thought sharpens everything inside me.
Silence stretches until Marko breaks it.
“Sienna has something to do with this, doesn’t she?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
He exhales slowly, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. She didn’t imagine this. Viktor played her. She underestimated how far he’d go.”
Marko nods once, eyes still on the road. “I can see how that happened.” A beat. Then, quieter, “She also has every reason to want revenge.”
I don’t argue.
