Kyle runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Barinov, but it’s just escalated.”
“You are correct, for the ones who targeted us.”
He shakes his head. “Listen, I know all about the Bratva shit. And I know you’re too big to take on. Fine. Maybe one day.” He points in Amalie’s direction. “But now you’ve got my sister roped into this. And she almost died tonight because of you.”
“She almost died tonight because someone decided to do something extremely stupid. The blame is with them.”
Kyle narrows his eyes. “You say that like you have no control over the circumstances of your life. You know what you are. Weallknow what you are. And you’ve pulled my sister into it.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get out a single word, a voice cuts through the argument.
“Stop!”
Kyle and I turn to see Amalie shrugging off the blanket and standing up.
“I’m not going to stand here and let both of you act like I have no agency. Kyle, you’re my brother and I love you. I understand what you’re doing, how you feel. ButImade this decision. No one else.”
Kyle jaw works again. He doesn’t like what he’s hearing.
I don’t add a single word. Amalie’s are powerful enough to stand on their own.
The medic steps away from her. “She’s good to go,” he says. “No injuries.”
I move to her instantly, taking her hand. “We’re leaving.”
Her grip tightens, her gaze moving to Kyle. He’s watching closely, filing away information for later.
“Take her someplace safe,” he calls. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I’m sure you will,” I reply.
My phone buzzes in my pocket with a text from Andrei.
Ready when you are.
Time to get some goddamn answers.
CHAPTER 42
AMALIE
There’s not a chance in hell I’m sleeping.
Even though those were Roman’s orders the moment we arrived home.
“Tea. Bath. Bed. I will be indisposed.”
But every time I close my eyes, I’m back at the Art Institute, taking cover from gunfire, screams erupting all around me.
He joined me for the tea, but I could sense his mind was somewhere else. Then he and Andrei went downstairs to the basement, a part of the house I’ve never seen before.
No way I’m sleeping. Not after tonight.
I roll out of bed, my hair still a little wet from the bath. After throwing on some leggings and a sweatshirt, I slip out into the hallway. The mansion is vast and quiet in that eerie way it always is at night.
Not knowing what else to do, I pad over to Sasha’s room. His night-light spills a faint blue glow into the hallway through theslightly cracked door. I move to the door and ease it open just a little bit more.
Sasha’s sprawled sideways on his bed, one arm flung over his stuffed bear, curls damp with sweat. Safe. My chest tightens so suddenly at the sight of him it almost hurts. I step inside and sit on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket over him. He stirs, frowning in his sleep, then relaxes again. The sight of him like this—so small, so trusting, so vulnerable—does something deep and permanent to me.
