Chapter 5Felicity
5
Felicity
A loud knock jolts me from sleep. I sit up, disoriented, as Kiril leaps out of bed. He’s at the door in seconds, gun in hand.
“It’s me, Viktor,” calls a deep voice from the other side. “We need to move. Now.”
Kiril opens the door, revealing his tall, broad-shouldered driver. He scans the room, looking at me for a brief moment before returning his attention to Kiril.
“Damiano’s men are closing in. We have ten minutes, tops.”
Kiril nods, already moving. “Felicity, get dressed. Quickly.”
I scramble out of bed, fumbling for my clothes. “What’s going on?”
“No time to explain,” says Kiril, pulling on his pants. “Viktor will fill us in on the way.”
Viktor. The driver, but I think he must be more to Kiril than just someone who ferries him around.
I dress as fast as I can in the clothes I wore before the wedding with my hands shaking. Kiril is dressed before me and holds out his hand as I hastily stuff the wedding dress into the store bag .
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, not trusting my voice as I take his hand.
Viktor leads us out of the room and down a service corridor. We descend a flight of stairs and emerge in an alley behind the hotel.
A black SUV idles nearby. Viktor opens the back door, and Kiril ushers me inside before climbing in after me. Viktor takes the wheel, and we peel out of the alley.
“What happened?” asks Kiril as Viktor navigates through the late-night traffic.
“One of Damiano’s men was spotted at the airport an hour ago,” says Viktor. “He must have traced the jet. I’ve got our people scrambling it now, but we need to move fast.”
I clutch Kiril’s hand, fear coursing through me. “He found us already?”
Kiril squeezes my hand. “It’s okay. We’re prepared for this.”
I shake my head. “You said getting married would keep me safe.”
He nods. “It will, but we have to make the announcement when we’re back on our home turf. Damiano is attempting one last strike against you before you’re officially under my protection, and it’s known by all.”
“Oh.” My voice is small, and I don’t know what else to say. I appreciate his honesty, but I wish he’d made it clearer that I was still in danger until we’re back in New York City. I though he was just on a tight timeline, not realizing it was to keep me safe.
“The jet’s ready,” says Viktor. “We’ll be wheels up in twenty minutes.”
The ride to the private airfield is tense. I keep glancing out the back window, expecting to see someone following us.
Kiril notices and pulls me closer. “It’s going to be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
We arrive at a private hangar. Viktor drives straight onto the tarmac, stopping next to a sleek jet. As soon as we’re out of the car, crew members grab our bags and usher us up the stairs. Inside, Kiril guides me to a plush seat. “Buckle up,” he says. “It might be a bumpy takeoff.”
I do as he says, palms damp. The engines roar to life, and we’re moving before I can catch my breath.
As we lift off, I grip the armrests. Kiril places his hand over mine. “Deep breaths. We’re safe now.”
Once we’re at cruising altitude, I start to relax. Kiril unbuckles and moves to sit across from Viktor, who’s pulled out a laptop.
“What’s our status?” asks Kiril.
Viktor types for a moment. “Our people lost Damiano’s man at the airport. He must have realized we were onto him. No sign of pursuit, but I’ve got people watching all possible routes.”
“Good.” Kiril turns to me. “I’m sorry about this, Felicity. I had hoped we’d have more time.”
“Where are we going?” I ask though I already know the answer.
“New York City, as we planned,” he says.
I want to argue, not sure I’m ready to meet the man who fathered me or face all the aspects of my new life, but the exhaustion of the past day catches up with me. I yawn, unable to stifle it.
His expression softens. “Get some rest. We have a long flight ahead of us.”
I nod, reclining my seat. As I drift off, Kiril and Viktor talk in low voices, discussing strategy and contingencies. It’s oddly comforting to have them so calmly discuss options and outcomes with clear confidence they can handle anything that arises.
My last thought before sleep claims me is that my life has become unrecognizable in a single day.