I check my phone again.Nothing.
Worry gnaws at my stomach. I try calling. Straight to voicemail. I send another text…
WILLIAM: Daddy? Are you okay? Please just let me know you’re safe.
Still nothing.
I pace faster, barefoot on the cool floor. The apartment feels too quiet, too empty without him. Memories from last night keep flashing… his intense eyes, the way he held me after, the passion in his voice when he talked about his traditions.
What if something happened?
What if that meeting with Viktor and the others went wrong?
My hands start to shake. I open my messages to Eddie…
WILLIAM: Hey Eddie, it’s William. Have you heard from your Daddy today? I can’t reach Kane and I’m getting worried.
His reply comes faster than I expect.
EDDIE: No, I haven’t been able to get hold of Viktor either. He said he had an important meeting but he usually texts me. This is weird. I’m worried too.
The tears come suddenly and hard. I sink onto the couch, hugging Twist tight as sobs shake my shoulders. The thought that Kane might be in serious danger—hurt, orworse—hits me like a truck. I realize in this moment just how much I care about him and how deeply I’ve already fallen.
Kane is scary. He’s dangerous. He’s everything I thought I should run from.
But he’s also the man who sings me Russian lullabies, who rubs cooling cream on my sore bottom, who looks at me like I’m the only soft thing in his brutal world.
I don’t want to lose him.
I just can’t.
I cry harder, face buried in Twist’s fur, the apartment blurring around me.
“Please-please-please be okay,” I whisper into the silence. “Please come back to me, Daddy.”
The waiting feels endless. And for the first time, I understand how much power this man already has over my heart.
My literary studies have taught me that life can be crueler than anyone could ever imagine. Plot twists and fate combine to the most wicked effect.
I just hope my story has something like a happy ending…
Chapter 16
Kane
Blood drips from my chin onto the filthy alley pavement.
Not my blood.
Not Viktor’s.
Four Presko soldiers lie dead or dying behind us, their bodies twisted in the shadows where we dragged them after the ambush.
My knife is still in my hand, slick and warm. Viktor leans against the brick wall beside me, chest heaving, his own blade dripping. We made it out by the skin of our teeth—just barely avoided the full trap on our way to meet the street spy.
I wipe the blood from my face with the back of my sleeve and look at Viktor.
A wry, exhausted grin cracks across his face…
