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I know he's right. Between the security surrounding the property, Luka's team, and Alexei himself, this is probably the safest place I could be. That doesn't stop the anxiety from tightening its grip.

“I know. It just doesn't feel that simple tonight.”

He pauses before continuing. “Alright. That's enough doom and gloom for one phone call.” He lets out a small sigh. “You plannin’ to come to the shelter tomorrow?”

A small smile tugs at my mouth. “You know good and well I'll be there.”

“That's the Magnolia Hayes I know.”

I laugh and shake my head, feeling a little more like myself..

Eventually, Jules yawns.

“You need sleep,” I tell him.

“So do you.”

“Probably.”

I check the clock and realize it's much later than I thought. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he agrees. “And Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to borrow trouble before it arrives.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up. “Easier said than done.”

“Goodnight, honey.’

“Night, Jules.”

The call ends, leaving the library quiet once more. I stare down at my phone before setting it aside on the table beside me.

Tomorrow.

I can handle tomorrow. I just need to get through tonight.

6

ALEXEI

The report from the previous night follows me into the morning. By the time I shower, dress, and head downstairs, the black sedan is still bothering me. A vehicle parked beyond the estate gates. An unknown driver. An unknown passenger. No plate number. No identification. No explanation for why they sat there watching before disappearing into the dark. People don’t spend time watching my house by accident.

Outside the windows, dawn is beginning to creep across the horizon. Security lights still burn around the estate while armed patrols move along the perimeter. Cameras cover every entrance and exit. Luka doubled the number of men outside after the attack at the shelter, and Roman added several more without asking whether I wanted them.

The smell of coffee reaches me before I step into the kitchen. Mrs. Bennett is already at the stove while Daisy dozes beneath one of the chairs. Winston is nearby, undoubtedly looking for a way to steal part of someone's breakfast.

The moment the small dog notices me, he freezes. I narrow my eyes, and he immediately sits.

Guilty.

Mrs. Bennett points the spatula toward Winston without turning around. “He already stole a sausage.”

“Of course he did.”

She glances over her shoulder. “Half of it, anyway.”