He doesn’t flinch. “And yet you survived.”
“That’s not the endorsement you think it is.”
He exhales, almost regretful. “You’re being emotional.”
I smile thinly. “You’re being careless.”
The look he gives me then is measured. “You’re not alone,” he says, spacing the words out. “That complicates things.”
I don’t ask how he knows. It doesn’t matter now. The council always knows more than it shows.
“I’m allowed to choose whom I see,” I say mildly, as if I’m testing the line.
“For now.”
My shoulders go still. I look at him and try to read what that means. The silence stretches.
When he stands, he doesn’t threaten me. He doesn’t need to. He leaves me with something colder than fear, a certainty that this isn’t over.
I call a taxi and come home. Dominik waits under the stairwell, pacing back and forth.
“Where the hell have you been?” he snaps.
“Ask yourself that,” I say, brushing past him and heading for the door, keys in hand.
“What do you mean?” He grabs my shoulder.
I knock his hand away and glare at him, but the look in his eyes tells me something’s wrong.
“Why didn’t you come to the cafe?” I ask, and I don’t soften it.
“You told me not to,” he says. “You texted me to come here. I’ve been waiting for you.”
My stomach turns. Mikhail knew where I’d be. This wasn’t chance.
“We’re compromised, Dominik,” I say. “Someone rewrote our plan.”
We pull out from our apartment in a rented sedan. Dominik chooses a hotel temporarily on the edge of the city. It has cameras that loop, Dominik says, and staff don’t ask questions.
As we head toward the hotel, a vehicle pulls in behind us. Red and blue lights flare in the rearview, too bright, too clean, cutting through the dark as we drive. Dominik’s hand tightens on the wheel.
“Not police,” he says immediately.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“Wrong hour. They don’t run stops here yet.”
He slows anyway, just enough.
The car behind us doesn’t pull alongside. It hangs back, waiting.
“Seatbelt,” he says.
I’m already pulling mine on.
The first shot hits the pavement in front of us.
Dominik doesn’t brake. He accelerates. Everything breaks loose at once. Tires scream as he punches the gas, the engine surging hard while a second car cuts in from the side. Gunfire cracks again, louder now, close enough that I feel it in my chest. The windows shudder, and the cabin goes thin and metallic.
