Chapter 2
ALINA
I spun on my heel and bolted down the hallway.
The slick soles of my worn sneakers squeaked against the polished marble floor, but I didn't care.
I just ran harder, pushing my legs as fast as they could carry me, ignoring the burn in my lungs.
I darted around a corner into the nearest hiding spot—a cramped janitor's closet.
I slammed the door shut, my fingers fumbling to try and lock it, but the stupid lock was tiny and my sweat-slicked fingers couldn't grasp it.
Giving up, I pressed my palms and an ear to the door, desperately trying to hear something, anything, to tell me whether he was out there.
Darkness swallowed me as my heartbeat raced so loudly, it felt like it would give me away.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of bleach and old mop water, the cramped space pressing against me like a coffin .
There was no relief in being hidden, only terror knowing he was hunting me.
It was just a matter of time before he found me.
Tears fell to my shirt as I sucked in deep breaths.
I tried to slow my heart; it was beating too fast, too loud, a bass drum in my ears screaming that he was coming for me.
I pressed a trembling hand over my mouth, forcing myself to stay silent despite the sobs wracking my body.
If he caught me, he would kill me.
If it was just me, I wouldn't care.
I might have even welcomed the release of death, but my poor grandmother depended on me. I was all she had left in the world.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
Then footsteps broke the silence.
Slow. Measured.
A cold sweat broke over my skin.
I stared down at the dim gleam of the silver knob, waiting for it to turn.
Had he followed me?
Of course, he followed me.
He should've opened the door by now.
The knob didn’t jiggle.
Maybe I was safe.
Maybe he would keep moving down the hall.
Or maybe he'd give up looking for me.
And maybe a flying unicorn would suddenly appear and carry me away.
I forced myself to wait.
One second .
Two.
Three.
Then…the scrape of a shoe.
A shift in the shaft of light under the door.
My breath came in ragged, uneven pants in my fight against the rising panic clawing at my throat as I stepped back from the door.
The doorknob slowly turned before the door swung open with a violent bang.
Pavel's steel eyes, cold and unreadable, stared into mine.
The sick stench of blood that clung to him filled my nose; my stomach rolled with the bile rising in my throat.
There was no way to pretend I hadn't seen him execute that man.
There was no way he didn't see me as a threat.
Pavel took a single unhurried step toward me. The gun was at his side, his finger still on the trigger.
"Fuck." His whisper was soft and low, his hard glare focused on my mouth.
I shivered as the possibility of him doing…other things…to me before he killed me became a very real threat. My gaze became fixated on the strong, tattooed hand gripping the gun, imagining it wrapped around my throat while he forced my thighs open.
Fuck.
My hands trembled as I kept backing away, feeling for the wall behind me. "Please..."
He took another step toward me. "You know who I am. And now I know who you are. "
My fingers brushed the cool cinder block as I slid along the wall, away from him.
My eyes darted to the open door slightly to the side and behind him.
There was only one chance for me to get out of here alive, and it wasn't even a good one.
Still, I had to take it.
Before I could second-guess myself, I bolted past him.
I didn't get far.
A dark laugh sounded behind me right before his gun fired.
The wall in front of me exploded in a cloud of dust and plaster fragments.
I screeched and jumped a mile.
Was he playing with me, or did he actually miss?
There wasn't any time to stop, to think.
Every instinct I had demanded I run.
My lungs burned, my legs ached, but it was this or death.
I turned the corner and ran harder, knowing he was right behind me.
I swore I could feel his heat on the back of my neck.
My stomach dropped as I hurtled around another corner so fast my shoes slipped on the tile floor, and I barely kept my balance.
A door loomed twenty feet ahead of me. I ducked inside and this time I was able to lock it behind me.
I wasn't stupid enough to think that I had won, or that I had gotten away.
But I had bought myself at least a few minutes.
The room was almost pitch-black, swallowed in darkness. The only light came from a small window where the faintest amount of moonlight pierced through the cracked-open blinds, casting thin, faded lines down the walls and onto the floor.
It wasn't enough to see clearly, but I had vacuumed this room hundreds of times and emptied every garbage can in here. I knew my way around well enough that the dim light was all I needed.
I was in an office space, a bullpen of sorts.
There were dozens of cubicles in tight little rows, each with their own desk, chair, and basic computer setup.
Silently dropping to my knees, I crawled through the aisles until I was somewhere in the middle of the room. Then I huddled under a desk and pulled my knees to my chest, curling into the smallest ball possible. It was the one thing I was truly good at…making myself invisible.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to calm my frayed nerves, but it was pointless.
Instead, I listened. Straining my ears for something that could tell me how close he was, how many men he had brought in to help hunt me down.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Just deafening silence.
No people shouting or footsteps echoing down the hallway right outside the door.
Not even a door handle jiggling.
Hope blossomed in my chest.
Maybe I lost him at the last corner?
How many turns did I take?
Could he have passed the door and continued down the hallway ?
I prayed it was true as I tucked myself deeper under the desk.
Even if I did escape this building alive, where did I go from here?
I would have to move now. Get a new job.
Where was I going to work that paid this much?
Maybe I would just stay hidden until morning.
If there were other people around to witness it, surely he wouldn't be able to shoot me.
Just as I pulled the desk chair in to block me off from the rest of the room, all my hopes of escape were dashed.
Wood splintered as the door was kicked open, shattering the grim silence. Light flickered in from the hallway for a brief moment before the room was thrust back into darkness as that same door was slammed shut.
I wasn't alone anymore.
He was here.
On the prowl.
Pavel's footsteps were slow and even as he walked down each aisle, back and forth, methodically searching for me.
My chest rose and fell with ragged gasps as I bit down on my lip, hard enough to draw blood in my effort to stifle the scream trying to claw its way out of my throat.
Shoving my fist against my mouth, I muffled my desperate breathing, the need for silence as he drew closer battling against the sob that wracked through my shaking body.
"Come on out, little kitten."
Why did death sound so seductive?
I squeezed my eyes shut, my body trembling so hard I was afraid the desk would shake with me, betraying my hiding place.
He prowled closer.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he purred.
He was enjoying this.
Of course he was.
Predators loved the chase.
They got off on it, and I was stupid enough to have put myself in his crosshairs.
I knew better.
I knew I should never have taken this damn job.
I'd been seduced by the money. Paid to ignore the danger, to look the other way.
"There is no place you can hide, Mary. Or should I say Alina?"
My body jolted.
He knew my real name.
Worse than that, he knew I'd lied to him before.
He paused, and the air shifted to something less playful and far more sinister. "Come out. Now. Before you make me angry."
There was no escape.
There was never an escape.
Even if I had gotten out of the building, he would have found me.
Trapped, I was as good as dead.