Chapter 22 - Angelika #2
“OK, but you wouldn’t have suggested it if you didn’t think….” He notices my expression and shakes his head. “Cheeky,” he huffs. “Princess.”
***
After breakfast, we stay on the balcony, sitting in the warm sun on a windless day, watching the city far below us come to life.
It’s still on my mind. Love. Him. The future I can’t have.
But I tell myself to enjoy this time because the mission is over, and after today, I have no more excuses to see him.
I have no reason to pretend I need to message him or be around him.
This is it. This is the last of it. So I need to make the most of it before I say goodbye.
But the thought of saying goodbye is like a knife slipping into my heart in slow motion. I’ve got no idea how I’ll manage that, but for now, I’ll leave that as a bridge I can cross only when the time comes.
***
Diomid and I are both tired from last night, and we laze about in his penthouse for most of the morning. Around twelve, he asks me if I want to watch a movie with him, and I curl up on the sofa next to him to watch a comedy. But Diomid falls asleep almost instantly.
I laugh, whispering about how cliché it is.
But then I realize, with heaviness creeping into my heart, that maybe this is my chance to leave without facing a goodbye. The goodbye I was dreading because I know I’ll cry, and I can’t explain to him why.
I bite my lip hard, already fighting tears.
Yes, this is the right time.
Let’s not back a big deal about this. I’ve said that to him in the past, more than once. And when the words pop into my head now, they make me want to cry even more.
He’s snoring softly, in a deep, comfortable sleep, his head resting back against the sofa pillows. Moving quietly, I stand up, pausing to watch him for a moment, then grab my phone and slip it into my pocket.
I slip out the front door in silence, although my footsteps are light across the floor, my heart is heavy in my chest as I pull it closed behind me.
The elevator ride takes an eternity. The walls are closing in. My chest is tight. My lungs are struggling to take a steady breath.
The doors slide open into the building lobby, and I smile at no one, determined to make myself feel ok. Stronger. Capable.
I walk out into the street to hail a taxi, but instead of stopping, I turn left and keep walking. I need to walk. I just need to be moving.
And who do I walk into? None other than Bardil Popov.
“Hello, little fox. Sneaky, cunning little fox,” he snarls, grabbing my arm and pulling me close.
“You!” I gasp in shock.
“Me. Yes. Hi.”
He pulls a gun from beneath his jacket and hisses, “Not a word. Don’t you dare scream.”
I stagger away from him as he releases my arm, but in his eyes I see the warning. If I run, he will shoot.
“What do you want?” I snap.
“Last night I thought it was you, you know. But that disguise was clever. Of course, when the bombs went off, it was like a lightbulb in my brain, piecing two and two together. So, here I am, and darling, I am pissed off.”
His eyes flare with anger as he speaks. He really is furious. A man who doesn’t seem to have control over his emotions. That makes him a very dangerous man at this moment.
“What do you want, Bardil?” I ask again, slower, trying to take in my surroundings and plot an escape route.
“If you run, I shoot,” he says. “So, don’t bother trying. I’m so fucking sick of people messing up my plans. You have no idea how much you fucked me over with that stunt you pulled last night, girl,” he snarls.
My heart is racing a million miles an hour. Diomid is asleep upstairs. My brother thinks I’m out shopping. I’m truly alone here, and once again, I was reckless with my safety. Blinded by my need to escape my own emotions, I left without thinking or preparing.
Ok, there is absolutely no point in being hard on yourself now. You need to get out of this mess, and then you can worry about how you keep making the same mistakes afterward.
I let out a sharp breath. Stall. Keep him talking. Think. Find a way out.
“It wasn’t about screwing you over, Bardil. It was about saving those girls. It wasn’t a personal attack on you,” I explain, forcing my body to relax, trying to act calm and unaffected by his threat.
“Oh, but it was. It was very, very personal.” His face distorts with anger, and I bite down on my lip. “Your family has fucked with me one too many times in the past, but this time, you, fucking girl, you really fucked me over.”
Anger surges inside me. I want to scream at him that he deserved it, that what he did to those girls, what he tried to do to me, gives me every right to fight back. He needs to know that he can’t get away with it... But that won’t get me anywhere. Logic. Calm. Attention to detail.
“So, then… what do you want from me, Bardil. What do you expect to gain from facing me out here? Revenge? You want me to help you fix whatever I messed up?” I speak slowly, drawing out time, hopeful that an opportunity will present itself or someone will notice us.
“You can’t fix it. But you can pay for what you did. I can use you to recover some of the costs I lost. I already have a buyer.”
My stomach spins, and I want to vomit.
“I won’t come with you. I’d rather die than end up sold to one of those men,” I snarl.
“You’re going to die, alright. It’s part of the deal. I told him I want you disposed of after he’s done with you. Can’t have you coming back to haunt me. But I do want to make some money out of you in the process of getting rid of you,” he hisses.