We were at an upscale corner café less than three miles from the Volkov estate. The sun was shining, but Sasha in his black suit with that ready-to-draw expression was completely out of place.
Sasha stared at me expressionlessly. I sighed and jerked my head toward the door. "Take a break, Sasha. I promise I won't run off."
Sasha's brow furrowed ever so slightly, but he obediently retreated outside the café's glass door.
"Jesus, you're like some endangered species under Bratva protection now." Mia leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with gossip. "Spill! What happened these past few days? You mentioned fireworks by the Potomac, and then what?"
I bit my straw, trying to use the ice to cool the uncontrollable heat rising in my cheeks. I carefully recounted the madness at theunderground fight club, his possessiveness in the locker room, and those spectacular birthday fireworks.
"Christ..." Mia propped her chin on her hand, looking at me like I was a terminal patient beyond saving. "Vivienne, your face is giving you away completely. You've fallen for him. And he's the most dangerous man in all of Washington."
"I know..." I rubbed my hair in frustration. "But I'm really not sure how he feels. Mia, between us... you know, it was fake from the start! I don't want to flatter myself. What if he just finds this whole 'role-playing' game exciting?"
"What can a piece of paper prove?" Mia tapped the table in exasperation. "Forget that damn contract. Use your brain and think—setting aside all the mob stuff, what has he done for you? If a man just wanted to play around, would he remember your birthday, lower himself to be your personal research material, and show up precisely when you're stuck?"
I froze. Images flashed through my mind—Nikolai's gaze in the candlelight, his blood-soaked ferocity in the octagon, his confession.
I didn't speak, but the sweet curve at the corner of my mouth wouldn't flatten.
"Look at you now, like some lovesick fool." Mia rolled her eyes mercilessly, but her gaze was full of happiness for me. "Admit it, V.C. Night, your novel's male lead has completely stepped into reality."
"But Mia, he's not a novel hero. He's Nikolai Volkov." I chewed my straw, stirring the ice in my cup, a vague unease rising in my chest. "We're from completely different worlds. Every day he deals with gunfights, smuggling, and turf wars. I just write serials. What if... what if his indulgence of me is just some Alpha mobster's sick fascination and possessiveness?"
"Please, I know those men." Mia snorted dismissively, tapping her nails on the table. "If mob bastards just want to possess a woman, they throw money at her or lock her in bed like a pretty trophy. But Nikolai? He respects your writing. He lets you be yourself. He's even willing to be that damn 'field research' for your novel! Vivienne, if that's not love, I'll swallow this iced Americanoglass and all."
Listening to Mia's words, I felt my heart sinking into warm honey water, that sour anxiety smoothing out bit by bit, replaced by a dizzyingly steady feeling.
Maybe I really could trust him. Trust that the most dangerous man in Washington had reserved his softest side for me.
I took a deep breath and instinctively turned my head, looking past Mia's shoulder toward the glass door outside to see Sasha—as if seeing someone who belonged to Nikolai could solidify this unreal sense of security.
But the moment my gaze swept past the floor-to-ceiling window, the curve at the corner of my mouth suddenly froze.
Beyond Sasha's tall silhouette, parked in the shadow of an oak tree across the street, sat a black Chevrolet SUV without any plates.
The engine was running—I could see faint white smoke from the exhaust. More unsettling was that two people sat inside, but they hadn't gotten out or driven away. They just sat there.
And their gaze was directed straight at this café.
My heart clenched hard.
Spending time with Nikolai at various mob venues, I'd seen too many of these "surveillance" scenarios. That lurking stare from the shadows carried a spine-chilling malice.
"Mia." I lowered my voice, naturally looking down and rummaging in my bag as if searching for something. "Don't turn around. That black SUV across the street—do you see it?"
Mia froze but reacted quickly. She lifted her coffee cup, glancing casually in that direction, then her expression changed slightly.
"Vivienne, that car..."
"I know." I cut her off, keeping my voice calm. "You need to leave. Right now. Immediately."
"Are you crazy? I can't just leave you—"
"Mia!" I looked up with an uncompromising gaze. "Trust me. Sasha's right outside. I'll be fine. But if you get caught up in this, I'll be distracted. Please, go."
Mia bit her lip, her eyes reddening. She stood abruptly, hugged mehard, and whispered in my ear. "You be fucking careful. If anything happens, call me immediately."
"I promise."
