Chapter 26
CLAIRE
Going back to my apartment wasn’t an option. It didn’t even cross my mind. Nothing was left there that I couldn’t live without, anyway.
All I had as I walked out of the Orlov building, paused by the guard only to tell him that I was leaving, simple as that, was my phone. My purse. And the clothes I had put on this morning.
My passport was digital, thank God, but I needed to get a ticket back across the ocean to the small town where I’d grown up outside London.
Leaving the skyscrapers in New York would feel right.
But as I rode into the area near the hospital I’d come here to work at, I struggled with the enormity of actually leaving Mikhail.
Of abandoning Anya. Because that was what it was.
There was no other way to view it. I was dropping her as my “patient”, unable to risk staying and getting further involved.
I was already complicit, and I as detoured to stop at a hotel, checking in quickly just to have a place to stop and sit and think before planning a ticket out of this country and away from the man I was falling for, I debated whether I was safe.
The last time I’d left his security, I’d run right into trouble. I saw the evidence of violence at the hospital, where Jack had been seen talking to those Mafia men and had been beaten for it.
I couldn’t be safe stopping in there, but as I sat on the bed of my hotel room, I knew I had to wrap up the loose threads there.
My career was all I had to look forward to. It was all I had going for me. In the wake of the storm Mikhail had caused in my life, I had to have something to fall back on. Throwing myself into my job would have to be the cause I’d commit to—again.
Love, and any solid future with a man, would have to go on the backburner again.
Groaning aloud, I fell back on the bed and closed my eyes.
The plan was to move around and broaden my horizons after my parents’ deaths. I’d left the UK for a change of scenery. My colleagues there applauded my move to the States. More of them praised me for signing up for the mission I’d never gotten a chance to reach.
Fuck.
I had to contact someone there and explain why I never showed up. It cut at my heart to fail and leave them hanging. I counted on giving back and helping others while I figured out where I wanted to be. But in ending up with Mikhail like I had, I still had no path forward.
But I can’t stay with him.
That much was crystal clear.
Going back home felt like a massive retreat, but it had to be the safest route.
I’d missed the chance to go on that mission now.
It had already started last week. I was probably risking lots of trouble at the hospital, lying about my sabbatical and being out of reach.
I couldn’t have used my phone at the Orlov building.
I learned that the hard way. Now that I wasn’t under their IT umbrella, my phone was receiving countless emails, texts, and voicemails.
I left it on silent, too overwhelmed to resume being a member of society again.
I had to go to the hospital, though. I could hedge and fudge my way through an explanation about where I was and why I hadn’t gone on that mission.
As much as I hated to lie and take advantage of anyone, I bet I could count on sympathy and understanding if I told them that the grief of recently losing my parents was impacting my mental health.
Plausible, and false. It was a line I could use, though.
Okay, first thing, go to officially quit.
I needed to do the right thing. It would also be necessary to free me up for employment near London, too.
Going there just made the most sense. I was without resources and a support system here, where all these Mafia families ruled.
No, that’s not true.
I had Mikhail and all his help, but with his help, I was expected to risk my life. I couldn’t accept that.
Next, book a flight.
I would need to stop at the bank.
Then, get the hell out of here.
I sat up, sighing at how big of a move this would be. Unwilling to let this plan linger in my head and be daunting as I put it off, I got up and got going.
As soon as I exited the hotel, paranoia crept in.
No matter which way I went, I grew nervous that people were watching me.
On the subway, I was convinced two different men were stalking me.
They were too interested in keeping me within their line of sight, only glancing away when they thought I was about to catch them spying on me.
Are they Orlov spies?
Those Italians, the Giovannis?
Popov men, like the ones who took Anya?
Worrying about so many people following me, I panicked and tried not to show it. Instead, I counted down the stops until I’d get off and go into the hospital to hand in a resignation.
On the walk there, I was more convinced that multiple eyes were on me. People were following me. Murderers and criminals were on my tail. With sickening clarity, I realized how Mikhail had to assume I was a fool to dismiss and reject his protection.
Already, I was marked, known as his for the time I’d spent with him, but I refused to stop now. I was too determined to reclaim my normal life, to get back to the my homeland where I would be a nobody once more.
Holding my breath, I crossed the intersection to reach the last bit of the pavement to enter the hospital.
Construction served as a detour, though, and I furrowed my brow when I was redirected from this entrance.
It wasn’t the one I usually used to get to work in the emergency department for my shifts, but the one that would take me to the admin area, to the superiors I’d need to notify that I was leaving.
Nearing the usual way I used, the entrance I’d take for work, I tensed up and tried not to look nervous, like I was scoping my surroundings. This brought me closer to where that man attacked me in the parking garage. It was closer to where I’d rushed and found Jack beaten in the break room.
Turning another corner, I shivered with nerves and had to stop to catch my breath. I was so skittish, shaking from the adrenaline rush of being so near where I’d been captured before.
Just breathe.
In and out.
Take it easy. One breath at a time.
Crouching over, I fought the fear and anxiety that threatened to make me pass out. I wasn’t normally this weak and easily scared. I wasn’t that kind of a terrified nutcase. But I’d been on edge for days now, never knowing when the other shoe would drop.
I looked up at the sound of voices nearby. Men were talking and laughing, sounding like they were walking around a corner.
Jack?
I hadn’t known the charming doctor for long, but I caught a glimpse of him. His reflection showed in the window of a car parked nearby.
Oh, shit.
I had to steer clear of him. I hadn’t forgotten his prejudices against Mikhail and the Orlovs. I hadn’t dismissed his friendliness with the Giovannis. Nor could I erase the mental image of him beaten and hiding in the break room.
Swallowing hard, I tried to listen in. The reflection showed that he was talking and smiling at one of them now. A member of the Giovannis, recognizable with his slicked-back hair and that specific suit.
No. I can’t go in there.
I had to fall back to another option. Forcing my trembling fingers to work on my phone, I opened my emails and took the cowardly way out. I would email the head of the department that I was leaving. It had to count as an official resignation. This was as far as I could go.
As I tapped in the words, frantic to stay plastered to the wall and out of sight, I heard Jack and the mobster joking about someone needing to be taught a lesson. Or fucked until they died. Something crass and crude that I couldn’t make out as I hurried to type in my email.
Before I could ensure that the email was sent, the small circle still spiraling as my phone tried to connect to whatever Wi-Fi was reachable out here, he yelled out.
“Hey! Are you spying on us?”
I jerked my head up, realizing too late that the Italian thug had noticed me in the reflection of that same window. I hadn’t been as hidden as I assumed I was. I’d tried not to move to attract attention. Otherwise, I would’ve run away. But they’d spotted me.
“Fuck. She’s listening in,” Jack said, rounding the corner and chasing me. “Claire?”
I panicked, shoving my phone into my pocket and turning to run.
Pumping my arms as fast as I could, I broke into an immediate sprint.
Their footsteps pounded after me as I darted into the pedestrian traffic out in front of the hospital.
People walked by. Cars honked and braked sharply.
It was rush hour and clogged up on the road and the sidewalks, but it didn’t matter which way I ran.
More of the Giovannis showed up. They had been around, it seemed, and now that the one who’d been talking to Jack shouted to get me, I whimpered and cringed, unsure how to run out of this situation with them surrounding me.
Two ran after me from behind. Another one was rushing at me from the right. The suited muscle jogging toward me head-on curled his lips in a sinister grin.
Oh, shit.
Fuck.
Fuck!
In a last-ditch attempt to escape, I pivoted and stopped short to run through the congested street.
Risking my life, literally, to stay away from these enemies who had only ever wanted to hurt me because I dared to fall under the spell of loving Mikhail Orlov, the Mafia boss who’d never want me back now.