Chapter 1 #2
The static clicks once, then cuts out completely. The sudden absence of sound feels heavier than the voice did. The warehouse returns to its own quiet, defined now by the buzz of the light overhead and the distant rhythm of the train line beneath us.
Lila exhales beside me, the breath slow but tight.
“They just want information,” she murmurs.
Then another mechanical click sounds near the personnel door. And this time, it’s followed by the sound of a lock disengaging. It releases with a low grinding sound that travels across the warehouse floor and sinks into the concrete.
Frigid air slips inside first, colder than what we have been breathing, bringing with it the faint scent of snow and exhaust. It brushes across my face and threads down the collar of my coat. Boots move across the floor, scraping faintly through the thin film of dust that coats the concrete.
I lift my head as far as the rope allows. Ivan Malenko approaches slowly, closing the distance between us one step at a time.
For a moment, I think my eyes are deceiving me. He doesn’t belong here. He looks the way he always does, wearing a pressed, tailored suit beneath his coat, his collar straight, and hair combed neatly back from his forehead as if he stepped out of an office.
My stomach tightens as I pull a slow breath through my nose, trying to slow the spike of adrenaline threatening to blur my focus. My pulse pounds hard enough that I feel it in my throat, while everything I thought I understood fractures around me.
Lila inhales sharply beside me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice catching in surprise.
Ivan looks at her first. “Making sure you’re safe.”
She stares at him as if the space between them has widened instead of narrowed.
“You did this?” The question leaves her breathless with disbelief.
Ivan doesn’t look away. “You weren’t the target.”
Lila’s expression changes in an instant, the shock hardening.
“We could have been killed!” she shouts, the sound breaking across the open warehouse and echoing back from the beams overhead. “They had guns! They were shooting at us!”
Her hands curl into her palms, her nails pressing into her skin.
“You weren’t the target,” Ivan repeats.
“That doesn’t make it acceptable!” she yells.
He studies her face carefully, not apologizing.
“I needed her here,” he says, nodding once toward me.
“You don’t need her tied up on the floor,” Lila snaps.
Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and I realize with a jolt that her anger isn’t only about me. It’s about him. And whatever I’m not understanding about this situation.
“This is temporary,” Ivan states.
“Then untie us.” The words leave Lila quickly, pushed through clenched teeth.
Ivan looks at her, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I,” Lila replies. “We’re not a threat.”
“She’s leverage.” He says it without raising his voice.
I keep my breathing even.
“She’s pregnant,” Lila says.
The air in the warehouse changes. Ivan’s gaze moves to me, then to my abdomen, then back to my face. His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen.
“How far along?” he demands.
“Far enough,” Lila answers before I can.
I meet his eyes. “You don’t get to ask that.”
He studies my face for a moment, then steps back. The concrete sounds hollow beneath his boots.
“This changes the timeline,” he says.
“For whom?” Lila asks.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches down and pulls a knife from inside his coat.
My shoulders tighten instinctively when he steps behind Lila. The blade flashes once under the light before he lowers it to the rope at her wrists. The fibers snap apart and she rubs at her wrists where the rope has left raised, red marks. The blood returns to her fingers in visible pulses.
He doesn’t move toward me.
“Untie her,” Lila demands.
“No.” The word is quiet.
“She’s pregnant.”
“I’m aware.”
The rope presses harder against my skin when I straighten.
“She’s not going anywhere,” he continues.
“She doesn’t need to be tied up,” Lila says, stepping closer to him. “Untie her. Now.”
“No.”
He holds her gaze without raising his voice.
Lila’s jaw clenches as she steps past him and drops to her knees behind me.
“I’ll do it myself.”
Ivan doesn’t try to stop her. Her fingers fumble at first, cold and stiff, then find the knot. The rope scrapes against my skin as she works it loose. My arms fall forward when the final loop releases, my shoulders burning as the circulation returns in heavy waves.
Lila grips my forearm to steady me.
“We’re not staying like this,” she says, her voice low and firm.
Ivan watches us both without intervening. The distance between control and defiance narrows to a few feet of concrete. And neither of them looks willing to give ground.
The industrial light hums once and then cuts out without warning. Darkness floods the warehouse. I hear his boots cross the floor. The door opens and closes again with a solid metal click.
The silence returns, broken only by the distant vibration of a train moving somewhere nearby. Lila remains beside me in the dark. Her breathing is uneven now, drawn in deeper pulls she doesn’t try to disguise.
Minutes pass. Then the lock turns again. This time, the footsteps are heavier. The personnel door opens, and cold air rolls inside. At the same time, the industrial light above us crackles once and flares back to life, flooding the warehouse in thin yellow light.
Arkady Voronin steps into the warehouse. He removes his gloves slowly, one finger at a time, and hands them to one of the men behind him before stepping farther inside. His coat is dark and tailored, the collar turned up against the winter air.
Ivan stands near the pallets, waiting.
“You didn’t get anything else?” Arkady asks.
“No,” Ivan replies. “She kept it vague.”
Arkady’s eyes focus on me, then move to Lila, then back to me.
“You’re certain?” he pushes.
“She knows less than we thought,” Ivan answers.
Arkady walks closer, his boots echoing across the concrete.
“And now?” Arkady asks.
Ivan hesitates for a fraction of a second.
“She’s pregnant.”
Arkady stops short. His eyes slowly move to my abdomen. A faint smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
“Well,” he murmurs. “That’s a gift.”
Ivan studies him. “It raises the stakes.”
Arkady shakes his head once. “No. It secures them. We keep her.”
Lila stiffens beside me.
“She’s not staying,” she counters.
Arkady ignores her. “A child ties loyalties,” he continues. “It forces decisions.”
“She’s not a bargaining chip,” Lila snaps.
Arkady looks at her briefly.
“Everything is,” he replies.
He turns back to Ivan.
“We keep her.”
The words sit there, cold and final. Ivan doesn’t argue.
The door closes behind them with a solid metal click, the lock turning once more and leaving us alone in the cold. I rest my hand low against my abdomen and listen to their footsteps fade.