Page 111 of The Bratva King

I slide behind the wheel and start the car, letting the AC blast. I know Nikolai’s house is fully stocked with food, but I have money. I want to go grocery shopping. Irina keeps the kitchen like it’s a five-star restaurant, but I need to feel useful. Independent. Like I’m contributing something.

“We’re going to the store,” I tell Luke. “We’re going to pick out some special snacks for you.”

“Okay.”

The grocery store is blessedly cool and not too crowded for a weekday afternoon. I grab a cart and let Luke walk beside me.

We move through the aisles slowly. I grab ingredients for dinner even though I know Irina probably has something planned.

I just need this small piece of normalcy. This feeling of being a regular mom doing regular mom things.

Luke spots the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, and his eyes light up. “Can we get these?”

I always say no. But thanks to Nikolai, I have the money, because I didn’t have to pay rent or utilities.

“Sure, buddy.”

I add them to the cart. We continue through the store. I’m reaching for a carton of milk when I feel it again. That prickling sensation at the back of my neck.

Someone’s watching me.

I turn slowly, scanning the aisle. A man in a baseball cap is looking at the cereal. An older woman is comparing prices on oatmeal. Nobody’s looking at me.

I’m being paranoid again.

We finish shopping and head to the checkout. The cashier is friendly, commenting on Luke’s dinosaur shirt. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t hide behind me, either. Progress.

I load the bags into the trunk while Luke climbs into his seat. I close the trunk and walk around to the driver’s side. That’s when I see it.

A piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper.

Every instinct in me goes on alert.

I look around the parking lot. Nobody’s watching.

I pull the paper out slowly. It’s a small white card. The kind you’d use for a business card.

Hope you’re having a nice day.

That’s it. Nothing else.

I scan the parking lot again. The cars around me. None of them have notes. Just mine.

It has to be one of those religious groups that come through sometimes, leaving little prayer cards. They’ve left them on my car before.

But my hands are shaking as I unlock the car and slide into the driver’s seat. A rose. Now, a card.

I start the car and pull out of the parking lot faster than I should. My eyes keep darting to the rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone’s following us.

Nobody is.

It’s nothing. Just a random note, one of those pay-it-forward things people do. But I can’t shake the feeling in my gut. Too many coincidences.

Greg’s voice echoes in my head. Trust your gut, Gabby.

And mine is screaming.

I drive toward Nikolai’s house. If someone is watching me, the only place I’m safe is behind those gates. Nikolai’s security. His guns. His promise that no one will touch me.