Chapter 38
GABBY
The Uber spits me out right in front of Union Station. I plan to ditch my phone here, making Bogdan or Sasha think I took a train. Instead, I grab a taxi to O’Hare, then I’m out of here.
Safe. My babies will be safe. It’s all I care about.
I tug on my bag, ensuring it’s there, and I scan the scene. It’s another slate-gray-sky day, steam rising from the street vents, throngs of people moving here and there. By now, Bogdan should be realizing that something’s off.
He’ll be looking for me. I have to move.
With one more deep, steadying breath, I start towards the station.
“Gabriella.”
I freeze. My eyes widen. I know that voice. A hand falls on my shoulder, firm but not aggressive, light enough to break out of if I needed to.
I don’t. It’s over. He found me.
I turn and look at Bogdan. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, but I can feel the disappointment in them.
“You disappoint me, Gabby. Are you trying to get me in hot water with the boss?”
Now I feel like a real asshole. My posture sinks, my stomach tightening. “No, I just had to go. I couldn’t—”
He raises his palm. “I get it. But this is the end of the line. Now unless you want to see if a pregnant lady can outrun a former D1 athlete, I recommend you come with me.”
He’s right, of course. Nothing to do but face the music.
“How did you find me?”
That question gets the first smile out of him all day. “Gabriella, you know how I operate—I always check for entrances and exits. Not to mention you had a little bit of an ‘up to something’ aura about you. I’ve got a sense for these things.”
A sigh flows from me. “I should’ve known. I’m scared, Bogdan. The babies, the assassination attempts…”
“I understand. But fleeing the city isn’t going to solve things. Your enemies will find you, and if you’re not here, Sasha and I won’t be around to protect you.”
“The country.”
“Hm?”
“I wasn’t just planning to flee the city. I was planning on leaving the country.”
“Is that so? Where to?”
“Rome.”
He glances aside, as if imagining it. “I’ve never been.”
“Supposed to be nice this time of year.”
“Nicer than this?” He nods toward the seemingly endless gray and slush around us.
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Believe it or not, yeah.”
He motions toward the sidewalk. “Come. I’m in a parking garage just down Jackson. We’ll be back home in a half hour.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
He touches the small of my back, telling me without words to start walking. “Now that’s a tough one. I tell Sasha, and I get the kudos for stopping you. But that puts you in… how do Americans say? Quite a cucumber.”
“A pickle,” I correct, smiling faintly.
“I was close. Anyway, let me think about it. Maybe if you don’t try to run off on the way to the car, we can work something out.”
“Deal.”
We walk side-by-side down the street, turning onto Jackson. I glance over my shoulder at Union Station—almost my escape route. Not a word is exchanged between us as we enter the garage, making our way to the elevator.
On the way up, Bogdan sighs. “Gabriella,” he says quietly. “There’s something you should know before you go home. Something you need to know. It’s about why you’re running in the first place.”
I blink, suddenly feeling uneasy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not just running from the Bratva, Gabriella. You’re running from blood.”
“Less cryptic, please.”
He glances aside, as if taking one more moment to think about what he’s going to next. Then he speaks. “Your father,” he says, “is Peter Morozov.”
My throat goes dry as the elevator doors open. “What?”
The world around me spins. I don’t know what to think, what to do. Bogdan places his hand on my shoulder, guiding me out of the elevator. I can barely feel my feet move under me. It’s like I’m in some kind of daze.
“I wish it weren’t true,” he says. “But it is. Sasha’s known since before he met you. He was, as you know, ordered to watch over you, keep you safe from that monster. It’s certainly not my place to tell you, but you need to know.”
“No. No. My father isn’t that man. My father’s dead.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not true.”
“It’s not possible. It can’t be possible.” The world keeps spinning around me. “Why didn’t Sasha tell me?”
“I’m sure you can imagine why. And I’m sure he would’ve shared the truth with you in time. But we don’t have time. You need to know now. You need to know the stakes.”
I stumble backward, bumping into the cement wall behind me. Bogdan hurries to my side, placing his hand on my shoulder. It’s comforting, steadying. But I feel sick and awful.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “You don’t deserve any of this.
But if it’s any consolation, know that Sasha cares about you more than anything, cares about keeping you safe more than anything.
This is why he’s been acting like a madman, why he won’t let you leave his sight.
He knows what will happen if Peter finds out. ”
“Peter doesn’t know?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. But when he does find out…” Bogdan doesn’t need to finish the sentence.
I can’t move. I feel stuck, scared.
“I can’t go. I can’t go back there.”
“You have to. I know this is all so horrible, but you need to be where we can protect you. Think about the babies, Gabby.”
He’s right. But I still can’t move. Peter appears in my mind, those eyes of his, just like mine.
“I can take you to a safe house in town. It’s not the penthouse. It’s quiet, and you can be by yourself. Take some time to think. I’ll tell Sasha what’s going on and that you need space. But you have to promise me—no more running alone. Okay?”
I wipe my eyes, hot tears burning them. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”
“Good. Now, come on.”
Feeling returns to my legs. Bogdan places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the garage.
“Car’s just over here. Come.”
We keep going, steps echoing on the concrete. Strangely, for the first time since fleeing Angie’s place, I feel a sense of relief. Maybe once Bogdan gets me to this safe house, I can breathe again, if only for a little while.
Then the sound of an engine revving cuts through the moment. Bogdan reacts instantly, his arm flinging across me, pushing me back. Tires screech. A black SUV swings around the lines of parked cars.
“Down!”
A burst of gunfire splits the air, followed by glass shattering, bullets ricocheting against the metal sides of cars.
Bogdan pushes me again, this time behind a cement pillar.
Hidden behind the thing, I watch as he slips a pistol out of his coat.
Figures spill out of the SUV, men in black masks, rifles in their hands.
He turns to me, his eyes burning. “Stay down and stay quiet.”
Bogdan raises his pistol and fires a quick pair of shots, precise and controlled. One of the men groans and drops. The other ducks behind a car and opens fire.
My ears ring from the horrible noise, the gunfire extra loud in the open expanse of the garage. My heart pounds. Bogdan moves with total efficiency and calm, his eyes fixed forward. For a moment, I think he might have the situation under control.
Then another shot rings out. A sharp cry tears from him, and he drops to his knees.
“Bogdan!”
He turns to me, his eyes wide. “Run! Run now!”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“Yes, you are! Go!” His voice cracks with desperation. “They want you alive! Run while you still ca—”
But it’s too late. Arms wrap around me from behind. I try to scream, but a huge hand clamps over my mouth. I try to see what’s happening to Bogdan, but I can’t. The man behind me pulls me away from the column and out of sight.
I try to bite, my teeth finding the meat of the palm and sinking into it, followed by the copper taste of blood. The man groans with pain, and then a blow lands at my temple. White light explodes behind my eyes.
The last thing I see before being thrown into the back of a van is Bogdan slumped bedside the pillar, his hand reaching out for me.
Then the doors slam. Tires shriek. Finally, there’s only the sound of my own heartbeat—wild, terrified.
I’m alone.