She nodded once, leaning on my bike. I killed the engine, got off and strode to the diner. It was
quiet. Nothing suspicious. I sat on a stool and pretended to look at the menu. A minute later, I saw
him. A guy in a leather jacket, packing. He took a booth and looked at his watch. The waitress poured him coffee, and he gave her his order, looking through the window.
I made my order, too, waiting for a couple more minutes, watching the street. Then I texted Sia,
telling her to come in.
When she walked through the door, she pretended she didn’t know me and ambled by the guy’s
booth. I stuffed my mouth with some fries, playing along.
The guy left an envelope on the table and a few bills, and then he left. Sia took his place and hid
the envelope under her hoodie. She went to the bathroom for a minute and exited the diner right after. I told the waitress to pack my food, took it and went back to the bike where my girl stood leaning
against it the same way I’d left her.
“You were good in there,” I said.
“I told you I’ve done this before, and Tino is good. He and I have a common enemy. I guess that’s
stronger than teaming up with Rasputin.”
“You checked the package?”
“Yes. I am now Daniella Melono. I have a flight back home to Milano where I’m taking another
trip to Paris, France,” she said in a very good Italian accent.
“He arranged for your flights, too?”
“Si.”
“You speak Italian?”
“Better than Russian.”
I let out a long breath, tossing the food bag on the bike seat and then wrapping my arms around her
waist. “When is your flight?”
“Nine hours.”
“Fuck.” That couldn’t be all the time I had left with her. “Baby…”
She looked down. “I don’t want to go either, but it’s just the way it has to be.”
“No. It doesn’t have to be like that. What if…” I lowered my voice. “What if we fake your own
death again? This time as Anastasia like I’d already planned? I have your DNA now. It’ll be much
easier.”
“Are you crazy?” she hissed as her eyes darted at me. “You can’t just kill another girl to fake my
own death.”
