11. Aria #2
I should run now. Should take this chance to get out while he’s not here. But I’m still frozen, shock keeping me pinned in place. And some morbid part of me needs to understand what I just witnessed.
I peek around the crates again. The blue-eyed man is still there, finishing with the body. Then I hear footsteps—someone else entering the warehouse. A new man appears. He’s shorter and stockier, with an unremarkable face I wouldn’t be able to describe if asked.
“Is it done?” The new man speaks English with a heavy accent.
“The accountant’s handled.” The blue-eyed man’s voice is rich and it makes me shiver. “Last loose end with the Cyprus accounts.”
Cyprus accounts. My brain tries to make sense of this, but everything feels fuzzy and unreal.
“And your partner?” The new man glances toward where Maksim left. “He’s still on board?”
“Completely.” The blue-eyed man sounds confident. “We move against his brother in three, maybe four months. Timing has to be perfect—Nikolai’s guard is down right now, and he trusts me completely.”
Nikolai. I know that name. Maksim has mentioned his brother Nikolai, the one who runs the family business. It always sounded like Maksim respected and maybe feared him a little.
“No second thoughts? No risk he backs out?” The new man sounds skeptical.
“None. He came up with half the plan himself.” The blue-eyed man laughs and it’s a cold, sharp sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “The Corsicans are ready on our end—once Nikolai is gone, we split the territory as agreed.”
The words sink in slowly, like poison spreading through my bloodstream.
We move against his brother.
He came up with half the plan himself.
The Corsicans are ready.
Once Nikolai is gone.
Maksim is planning to kill his own brother. He’s working with these people—Corsicans, whoever they are—to betray his family. And they just murdered someone to cover it up. An accountant who knew about Cyprus accounts.
“And no one suspects?” the new man asks.
“No one. By the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late.” The blue-eyed man moves toward the body. “Help me move this. We need to be done before he gets back.”
They lift the wrapped body between them and carry it toward the back of the warehouse. I hear a door open and close, then I’m alone with the ringing in my ears.
I run.
I don’t remember getting outside. I don’t remember the ride back to my apartment. I just remember sitting on my bathroom floor, still in the lingerie I wore to seduce him, and vomiting until there’s nothing left.
The man I love is a killer. A traitor. A monster.
I spend a day in my apartment, calling in sick to work, jumping at every sound and waiting for Maksim to show up at my door, knowing I was there.
He calls and texts me, but I refuse to answer them.
On the second day, I wake up nauseous. It’s not the soul-deep nausea of horror, but something physical that sends me running to the bathroom again.
My period is late. It’s been late for over a week, but I’ve been too distracted to notice.
No. Please, no.
The pregnancy test costs twelve dollars I can’t really afford. I take it with trembling hands, and when those two pink lines appear, I sink to the bathroom floor for the second time this week.
Because irony has a sick sense of humor, I’m pregnant.
I’m carrying Maksim Sokolov’s baby, and I just watched him murder someone and plot to kill his own brother.
The choice crystallizes with brutal clarity: stay with the man I love and raise our child in this world of violence and betrayal, or run and keep my baby safe.
I choose to run.
It takes me three days to plan. I clear out my bank account.
There’s not much, just the two thousand dollars I’ve been saving for emergencies.
I buy a fake ID from a guy my roommate knows and become Sarah Mitchell, complete with a social security number.
I pack one suitcase with clothes and essentials, leaving everything else behind.
On the fifth day after that night in the warehouse, I get on a bus to Philadelphia and disappear.
I never see Maksim Sokolov again.
Until he finds me eight years later.
“Aria!”
I’m on the floor of the garage. I don’t remember falling, but my back is against the wall and I’m gasping for air that won’t come.
Maksim is crouching in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his handsome face creased with concern. His gray eyes—the same eyes I fell in love with, the same eyes that looked so cold and empty in that warehouse—are searching my face.
“Aria, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
I realize I’m crying. My face is wet with tears and I’m trembling.
“I—” I can’t get words out. All I can think about is the memory of blood on concrete and cold voices discussing murder.
“You’re scaring me.” His hands cup my face, forcing me to focus on him. “Are you hurt? Is it the baby?”
The baby. Our second baby. The one that’s tying me even more firmly to this man I don’t know if I can trust.
“I saw a spider,” I blurt out. “A big one. It startled me.”
It’s a weak lie, pathetic even, but it’s all I can manage.
Maksim’s expression shifts from concern to something more assessing. He doesn’t believe me—I can see it in his eyes. But he doesn’t call me on it either.
“A spider.”
“I hate spiders. They scare me. I have severe arachnophobia.” I’m babbling, trying to cover the panic. “It was huge with long legs and it jumped at me. Like this.” I mimic my hands jumping at my face.
“Okay.” He helps me stand, his hands gentle but firm. “Let’s get you inside and away from the spiders.”
I let him guide me out of the garage, Len watching from where he’s standing by the car. Maksim keeps one arm around my waist, supporting me even though my legs work fine now.
We make it into the house and he sits me on the sofa in the living room. He disappears into the kitchen and returns with water.
“Drink.” He hands me the glass.
I do, even though my hands are shaking so badly I almost spill it. He sits beside me but doesn’t touch. I can feel him watching me.
“Aria,” he says quietly. “What really happened?”
“I told you,” I say, setting down the glass. “I saw a really gross spider.”
“I don’t think that’s what you saw.” He shifts closer, his body heat enveloping me and my mouth dries. “That wasn’t about a spider.”
No. It was about watching you murder someone eight years ago and hearing you plot to kill your brother. It was about realizing I’ve been running from you for eight years and I still don’t know if you’re the monster I think you are.
“It was fear,” I say again, but it sounds weak even to me.
He’s quiet for a long moment, and I can see him trying to figure out what’s really going on.
“You weren’t scared of a spider.”
“Yes I was—”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is firm but not harsh. “Not right now. Something terrified you in that garage. Something that made you collapse and cry and shake like you were having a panic attack.” He’s touching me now, his hands on mine. “What happened, Aria? What did you remember?”
My blood goes cold. He knows. He doesn’t know what specifically, but he knows something triggered a memory.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pull my hands away. “I just got dizzy. Low blood sugar, probably. I should eat something.”
I start to stand, but his hand on my wrist stops me.
“Stop running.” His voice is quiet but intense. “Please. Whatever this is, whatever you’re afraid of, just tell me. Let me help.”
I look at the concern in his gray eyes, the tension in his jaw, and the way his hand is gentle on my wrist even though I can see he wants to shake the truth out of me.
I pull my hand away from him. “There’s nothing you need to help me with. There was literally a gigantic spider in the garage. You should call an exterminator.” And with that, I rush out of the living room before he can stop me, my mind racing.
Is this man a traitor? A killer planning to murder his own brother?
Or did I misunderstand everything that night?
I realize with sudden clarity that I need to tell him. I need to find out if he was part of it or if I’ve been running from the wrong person all along.
But either way, there’s a very good chance I’ll be dead when I do tell him.