Chapter 22
LEAH
“Roxanne used to live here.”
I jerk around with the sound of that name, a name I never thought I’d hear again. A name I never wanted to hear again. Marius is staring up at a short block of apartments, the entrance topped with a green awning against the decorative limestone.
“What?”
Marius’s eyes snap to me, then widen as he realizes his mistake.
“How do you know about Roxanne?” I demand, glaring at him as I wait for an answer. At least until the man standing behind the counter of the sandwich window clears his throat, holding his hand out for my card, and the guy behind me gives an exaggerated, annoyed, New York sigh-slash-groan.
I flash Marius a look that promises this conversation is not over, and I see his grimace out of the corner of my eye as I finish paying for our lunch.
We find a spot on a bench, and I adjust my scarf more tightly around my neck.
It’s a clear day, but the breeze is chilly, sending dry leaves scuttling along the sidewalk and pushing shredded clouds across the bright blue sky.
“Okay.” I put my sandwich down and turn to face Marius. “How do you know about Roxanne?”
He pauses in the first bite of his enormous sandwich, then places it back onto the butcher paper lying open on his lap.
“Maybe Uncle should use you for interrogation,” he grumbles under his breath. “You don’t fucking give up.”
“You haven’t figured that out yet?”
It’s a smart-ass answer, but it’s also the truth.
When Iliya’s not with me, it’s Marius, and it’s been that way for weeks now.
Where Iliya is a silent, brooding presence in the background, Marius is more like a friend tagging along.
A dangerous friend with a gun in a holster at his side.
He sits in the chair in the corner of my office, or Suzie’s, reading a newspaper or scrolling through his phone.
Clients and colleagues glance at him, of course, a little wary, but no one dares to comment.
Suzie mostly ignores him, too, offering him coffee, treating him like any other visitor, and probably wishing he were Iliya, whom she is on a mission to distract when he’s on duty protecting me.
I know Iliya will never say it, but I think he enjoys the game, and I think, from the way he goes out of his way to interact with Suzie, he’s starting to enjoy her presence, too.
She doesn’t feel that way about Marius. Even though he’s closer to our age, she’s a little standoffish with him, though I don’t know why.
Despite the initial awkwardness, I’ve gotten used to having Marius around.
He’s funny and enjoys joking around. He’s also talkative, mentioning the weather, the new coffee shop he found, the opening of some new club or other, sometimes even a snippet from a news article he’s reading.
He’s quick to laugh, too, and the gesture actually reaches his eyes.
He might be Viktor’s nephew and Peter’s cousin, but he’s the most normal out of all of them. You’d never even know he was part of the Bratva, except for the gun and the tattoos dusted across his knuckles and the backs of his hands, which I’m pretty sure go all the way up his sleeves to his chest.
“How do you know about Roxanne?” I press again.
Marius cringes again. “She—” He pauses uncharacteristically and licks his lips nervously. “She hung around with the family for a while.”
“I know that.” Apparently, most of our friends knew Peter was cheating on me with Roxanne, who was part of our friend group, long before I did. And none of them bothered to tell me, which is why I’m not friends with any of them anymore.
“Not Peter,” Marius says, and I don’t like the direction this is going; warnings are blaring in my head.
“Not Peter?” My voice is quiet, strangled.
Our gazes meet, and he doesn’t have to say anything for me to understand what comes next—the logical conclusion to all his hedging and uncharacteristic nervousness.
“Roxanne?” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper. “Peter’s mistress, Roxanne?”
Marius nods, pity creating creases in his forehead. “I thought you knew.”
“No. I didn’t.” My voice is faint. I feel faint.
Marius nods slowly. “Neither did Peter. She was complicated. Very ambitious. She was with Viktor for a while before Peter. It was a messy split. Viktor doesn’t like to talk about it.” He shrugs as if it’s common knowledge, as if he hasn’t just dropped a bombshell that detonates in my chest.
My mind races as I try to piece together the implications. This adds a whole new layer, a deeper, more insidious connection to the man I’m now engaged to. It’s not just about his controlling nature; it’s about his past, a past intertwined with my own in the most horrifying way.
“She was Viktor’s girlfriend?”
Marius shakes his head. “No. Just a fling. Not serious, not like with you. But yes, they were involved.”
Viktor knew exactly who Roxanne was when she was with his son. It means he had a history with her, a personal stake. It paints a picture of a man even more complex than I’d imagined.
Things have improved between Viktor and me since our conversation that night after the Antonov Bratva ball and the incredible, soul-melting sex afterward. But we still have a long way to go, both of us feeling our way around this entirely new situation. I know Viktor is trying, and so am I.
But this new knowledge sets me back.
The walk back to my office is silent. Marius seems to know he said something very wrong, that he screwed up big time. I’m just trying to sort through my feelings about what he told me and the secrets he revealed. Secrets Viktor neglected to tell me.
Just as I step past an alley, a sudden, sharp crack echoes through the narrow space. A bullet whizzes past my ear, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the brick wall beside me. Screams erupt on the sidewalk, and people dive out of the way.
Before I can even process the fear, Marius is there, a blur of motion. He shoves me hard against the wall, shielding me with his body. Another shot rings out, closer this time. He draws his weapon.
“Stay down,” he barks, his voice tight.
My heart is pounding, my chest so tight with the buzz of panic and fear, I can barely breathe. All I can think about is the baby growing within me and Eliza, who needs me; the two most important people in my life, and some crazed psychopath is trying to kill me yet again.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. This is not a life I can live. This is not a life I want to bring a child into: the constant threat, the violence, the fear—it’s too much.
More screams, throngs of people running.
A horn blares and two cars crash as people dart across the road without looking, adding to the chaotic confusion.
Marius is engaged in a rapid exchange of gunfire with unseen assailants, and I seize my chance.
He’s distracted, his attention solely on the threat.
I push off the wall, scrambling to my feet, and run in the opposite direction down the alley, and I don’t look back.
I hail the first cab I see as police flash by us on the street, sirens wailing. I practically throw myself into the back seat. “American Museum of Natural History,” I gasp. “Hurry!”
The driver, a grizzled man with a perpetually bored expression, glances at me in his rearview mirror, then shrugs and pulls into traffic. The city blurs outside the window. Eliza is on a school field trip, and I’m going to collect her.
I call Suzie and tell her what’s happening.
My phone rings as soon as I hang up with my best friend. It’s Marius. I silence it, then turn it off.
We pull up to the museum. I jump out of the cab as soon as I’ve thrown money at the driver—I have no idea how much, but I know it’ll be enough. I search through the endless halls, my pace picking up as I go, frantic to find Eliza before someone else who means her harm does.
I also need to skirt Viktor’s men, who are here watching over her. I’ve seen two of them so far, though I don’t think they saw me, as I ducked behind crowds and displays.
“Leah?”
Eliza’s teacher stares at me when I finally find them in the crowds on the third floor. All the kids are gazing up at the surrounding display, a dazzling spectacle of colors and movement. Eliza’s head whips around when she hears my name.
“Mom?”
“Hey, baby,” I smile at her, wondering what the hell I’m communicating to her. It must look manic, and I must look ridiculous, out of breath, sweaty, and wide-eyed. “I need to pick up Eliza,” I tell the startled teacher. “Emergency. Family.”
The teacher looks at me, her eyebrows nearing her hairline. “Is everything okay?”
“Her aunt was in an accident, and I have to get down to the hospital.”
“Auntie Suzie?” Eliza’s eyes widen, and I hate the fear on her face.
“Okay, sure. I’ll just sign her out for the day.” The teacher looks bewildered because I’m sure she hasn’t dealt with something like this before. She radios the principal, also on the school trip, and I pull Eliza along and blend back into the thick throngs of people.
“Is Aunt Suzie okay?” Eliza’s voice is small and worried.
“Aunt Suzie is fine, baby,” I say. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. Let’s get out of here first, though, okay?”
We remain with the crowd until I spy a back hall, and I pull Eliza after me as I turn one way, then another, running past someone in a lab coat who yells at us to slow down. I keep going until I find a door far away from the main entrance.
Three blocks over and half a block up, I stop under a leafless tree and scoop Eliza into a tight hug, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her sweet, innocent scent. “We’re going on an adventure, sweetheart,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice light to hide the fear that still trembles through me.
It’s only minutes before a familiar white BMW pulls up to the curb with a giant, black Great Dane in the back, which makes the sleek machine look like a clown car.
“Benji!” Eliza cries, already scrambling into the back seat with the dog. I hurry to the other side of the car and collapse into the passenger seat, still shaking, still gasping for breath.
“You ready?” Suzie asks.
I nod, and so does she, so she pulls into traffic and away.
Far away.
Leaving my job, leaving the life I’ve slowly, painstakingly built for myself and Eliza.
Leaving Viktor.
The thought of him, of his intensity, his flawed attempts at affection, his terrifying control, brings a fresh wave of grief. I’m going to miss him, despite everything. The fleeting moments of connection, the way he looked at me sometimes, the comfort of his arms when he wasn’t trying to own me.
But the fear, the constant, gnawing fear, overrides everything else. These people, Viktor’s enemies, will never stop. They’ll keep coming for me, for us. And I can’t put Eliza through that. I can’t live a life constantly looking over my shoulder, constantly waiting for the next attack.
This is the only way. To disappear. To sever the ties, even if it means tearing a piece of my own heart out. New York, our lives here, Viktor—it all has to be left behind.
For Eliza. For the baby. For me.