Page 237 of Sexting His Assistant

Luka and Pavel are already near the far end of the corridor. They don’t look back.

I keep to the wall, moving slowly enough that my head does not punish me and quietly enough that I feel ridiculous.

They turn down a corridor I have never been through. Then another.

The house changes the farther we go.

The warm guest wing gives way to older stone, narrower halls, fewer lamps. The floors become colder under my slippers. At the end of the hall, Pavel opens a door that looks like part of the wall, and both men disappear through it.

I wait until the door is almost closed.

Then I slip through after them.

There’s a stairwell beyond it.

Basement.

Of course, Luka’s house has a secret basement.

At this point, I would be more surprised if it didn’t.

I keep one hand on the railing and go down slowly. Voices rise before I reach the bottom. Luka’s voice first, low and controlled. Pavel’s next, quieter. Then another voice, rough and broken with fear.

The man.

I stop before the stairs open fully into the room and press myself against the wall.

The space below is larger than I expected. Not a dungeon, exactly, because apparently even Luka’s terrifying basement has good lighting and clean floors, but there is nothing warm about it. A chair sits in the middle of the room. The man from my apartment is tied to it, face bruised, one eye swollen, wrists bound to the arms.

My stomach turns.

I recognize him even though I only saw him for one second before he hit me.

Luka stands in front of him with his jacket off, sleeves rolled, shoulder bandaged under his shirt. Pavel stands to the side with a tablet in one hand.

The man is crying.

He looks exhausted and terrified, like he has spent the last four days learning exactly what it means to be locked inside Luka Kazan’s house.

The man says, “Please.”

Luka grunts, “Are you ready to talk now?”

The man nods quickly. “Please. Please, I’ll talk.”

Luka says, “Start with the apartment.”

The man’s swollen eye flicks toward Pavel, then back to Luka. “I never meant to hurt her.”

My hand tightens around the railing. Luka goes very still.

The man rushes on. “She surprised me. I thought the place was empty. I swear. I was told she wouldn’t come back yet.”

Luka takes one step closer. “Who told you that?”

The man’s breathing turns ragged. “I don’t know.”

Luka says, “Wrong answer.”