That evening, Sasha suggests cards to pass the time. We sit around the kitchen table, playing poker with matchsticks as chips. Danil is good, reading tells and bluffing with practiced ease. Sasha is better, his face an unreadable mask. I'm terrible, my anxiety making me fidget and give away every hand.
"You're too honest for poker," Danil says with a laugh after I fold yet another potentially winning hand. "Your face shows everything you're thinking."
"Not everything," I mutter, but he's right. I've never been good at hiding my emotions.
Sasha's hand finds my thigh under the table, squeezing gently. The touch is reassuring and distracting in equal measure. His fingers are warm through my jeans, and I'm acutely aware of how close they are to places that have no business being thought about while his best friend sits three feet away.
"Another round?" Danil shuffles the cards with surprising dexterity for someone with hands that big.
"I'm out." I stand, needing to move. "I'll make coffee."
I busy myself at the counter, measuring grounds and water, trying to ignore the low rumble of male voices behind me. They've switched to Russian again, and while I can't understand the words, I can hear the tone. Serious. Concerned. Sasha asking questions, Danil answering carefully.
The coffee maker gurgles and hisses, filling the kitchen with the rich scent of dark roast. I'm reaching for mugs when I hear the back door open and close. Sasha's voice calls out, "Going to check the generator. Be right back."
My stomach drops. He's leaving me alone with Danil.
I turn slowly, and Danil is standing now, moving toward the kitchen with that same unsettling familiarity. He's not threatening, not overtly, but something in the way he moves makes my instincts scream.
He leans against the counter, casual and relaxed, but I see the predator underneath. His voice drops to barely above a whisper. "I know who you are, Lena Orlova. The question is, does he?"
24
ALEKSANDR
When I push back through the door after checking the generator, stamping snow from my boots, the temperature in the cabin feels ten degrees colder than when I left.
Maya stands frozen by the kitchen counter, her face drained of color. Both hands grip the edge, knuckles white, fingers trembling. Danil leans against the opposite counter, arms crossed, watching her with an expression I can't quite read.
The air between them crackles with something I don't understand. Something that makes my instincts flare hot and sharp.
"What happened?" My voice comes out harder than I intend.
"Nothing." Maya's smile is too bright, too forced. "Danil just startled me. I didn't hear him come into the kitchen."
I look at Danil, and he shrugs, his expression shifting to something apologetic. Too smooth. Too practiced. "My fault. I move too quietly sometimes. Old habits."
The explanation is reasonable. But Maya's hands are still shaking, and there's something in her eyes that looks like fear. Real fear.
I cross to her in three strides, my hand finding the small of her back. Even through her sweater, I can feel the tension radiating through her body. "You okay?"
"Fine." She leans into my touch. "Just jumpy. The storm makes me nervous."
But I've seen Maya handle storms before. She doesn't spook easily.
Danil moves toward the living room. "I should probably call in. Let people know I found you."
"No." The word comes out sharp, commanding. "Not yet."
"Alek…" He catches himself. "Sasha. People are worried. They need to know you're alive."
"And they will. When I'm ready." I keep my arm around Maya, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against my side. "Right now, I need time to figure out who I can trust."
Something flickers across Danil's face. Hurt, maybe. Or understanding. He nods slowly, then moves to the window, staring out at the swirling snow. The silence stretches, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the howl of the wind outside.
A memory hits without warning.
We're in a boardroom with a mahogany table, leather chairs, and the smell of expensive cigars. I'm at the head of the table, and Danil sits to my right. Someone questions my decision about territory expansion.
