My hair is pulled back tight at the nape of my neck, every loose strand smoothed down and tucked away. One of the men handed me a baseball cap before we left the suite and gestures for me to put it on. I don’t argue. I just pull it low over my eyes and follow his instructions.
We don’t take the elevators or the main stairs. We go down narrow service corridors that smell like concrete and cleaning chemicals, past doors markedSTAFF ONLY, the lighting dimmer and more utilitarian the further down we go.
I keep my head down like they told me to. If this situation weren’t so dangerous, I might feel like a VIP.
The slippers pad softly against the floor. They aren’t ideal for the fast pace we’re walking, but they’re a welcome relief after being in heels all night.
I feel wrung out. This night has been such an insane rollercoaster of emotions, I’m not even sure how I have the energy to stand right now. I’m running on fumes but somehow I’m also running on a third wave of adrenaline. One that started when that car exploded.
I keep replaying it over in my head.
The way the floor lurched beneath my feet. The pressure in my chest. The way Andrei moved without hesitation, pulling me down, covering me like his body was a shield. I’d never felt so simultaneously terrified and protected at the same time. Andrei is such an interesting study of contradictions.
We reach a door at the end of the corridor. One of the men opens it, and cool night air rushes in, sharp and damp. The sound of the city filters up from somewhere above us, distant and muffled.
The loading ramp beneath the hotel is dimly lit and cavernous, shadows pooling in the corners. A black car waits with its engine running, nondescript and unremarkable in a way that feels deliberate. I hesitate for half a second at the threshold.
This is the moment where I could say no. I could go back with Kostya, come hell or highwater. He wouldn’t have to know about my involvement in any of this. He would never know that I met Andrei Markov, or that he’s protecting me. He would probably think that I got loaded and took an Uber home.
I could still break up with him without raising any alarm bells. He cheated on me during our engagement party. That’s more than enough reason to end things. I could never see him again and pretend this whole awful night never happened.
None of that would change the fact that my dad is in the Bratva, though. None of it would make me stop wondering if Kostya sought me out on purpose. Maybe his goal was always to find a way to kill Andrei, and I was just a pawn.
All these thoughts race in my head, and I’m left with no choice but to step forward and get into the car. Once the door is opened by a burly guard, I slide inside, the leather seat cool through my pants. Andrei follows immediately, the door closing behind him with a solid, final thud.
The car pulls away smoothly.
I stare straight ahead for a moment, my hands clenched tightly in my lap. My teeth chatter before I realize I’m doing it. I press my lips together, trying to stop. The silence stretches between us, heavy and oppressive.
“Why would someone try to kill you?” I ask suddenly.
The words tumble out of me without much thought. I have no room for thought anymore. All that’s left is questions.
“It’s an occupational hazard,” Andrei says calmly. “They don’t usually get this close, though.”
There’s no hesitation in his voice. No attempt to soften it or explain it away. Just a simple, terrifying confirmation.
I turn toward him slowly, my movements stiff. He’s sitting close enough that our shoulders nearly touch, his presence solid and unyielding beside me. He looks composed, almost unsettlingly so, like the explosion was just a mild inconvenience.
“They blew up your car,” I say quietly.
“Yes.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” I ask incredulously.
“Of course it bothers me, Alina,” he replies. “But it’s familiar. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last.”
That’s worse somehow.
I swallow hard, my mouth dry.
“Why tonight?” I manage. “Why use my engagement party as a cover?”
His jaw tightens just slightly. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
I shake my head, trying to clear it. “You said they were using me.”
He glances at me then, his gaze sharp and assessing. “That’s certainly a theory.”
