Chapter 2
NIKA
Strong arms wrap around my body as we’re flung down the hall.
Something smashes and suddenly we’re tumbling out my front door.
Wood splinters around us. Flames lick the air behind me, tendrils of heat and death reaching like greedy fingers.
I try to scream but there’s no air in my lungs.
Black smoke pours from my apartment in thick waves.
We hit the ground hard and roll until we smash into the opposite wall.
I’m pinned underneath Gabe, my body shoved against the baseboards.
The cheap, scratchy rug is jammed against my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Gabe snarls, pulling himself back. He gets to his feet unsteadily. It’s a minor miracle, but he’s still got the dress. The hem is blackened though, which is a shame. It looks like a nice dress.
“I think so.” I sit up, dizzy and confused. A few of my neighbors are coming out of their doors. Gabe kneels and pulls me to my feet.
“We have to go.”
“Wait, hold on—“ I gape at my apartment. “It’s on fire. We need to call the fire department.”
“Someone else will handle it.”
“Gabe wait—“
“You were nearly incinerated in a drone strike. You really want to stand here and discuss it?”
His grin is gone. His expression is hard, and I want to trust him. Every inch of me is desperate for him to tell me what to do. I’ve always been that way. It’s easier to go along.
I fall into old habits and nod. “Okay, let’s go.”
He helps me up and shakes off a few concerned bystanders.
They gape in stunned silence as I limp past them.
My ankle hurts and my head’s throbbing but I’m fine otherwise.
Gabe’s doing much worse: parts of his suit are singed and torn, and there are a few cuts down his arms and on his face.
He took the brunt of the attack and saved my life, nearly at the cost of his own.
He said this might happen… he warned me from the start… and I still didn’t listen.
The world’s spinning as we descend to the bottom floor.
He pauses in the lobby, listening carefully near the doors, before sprinting out into the night.
He drags me along behind him and I can barely keep up.
I wait for the drone to appear again, its black rotors spinning, another missile streaking through the darkness, but it doesn’t happen.
Instead, we reach a BMW parked near the entrance.
He gets me inside, puts the dress in my lap, and jumps behind the wheel.
We peel out as sirens blare in the distance, getting closer.
I watch out the back window. Smoke twists into the sky. More neighbors appear in the parking lot. I don’t look forward again until my apartment building is out of view.
“Someone tried to kill me,” I say in a daze before looking down. “And there’s a wedding dress in my lap.”
“Weird day for everyone,” Gabe murmurs, concentrating on the road. He steers away from Koreatown, heading to West Hollywood.
“Why would someone want to blow me up?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why are you in a suit? Why do you have a wedding dress?”
“Even more complicated.”
“Where are we going?”
He brightens. “Oh, that’s simple. We’re going to my favorite diner.”
I study him, trying to figure out if he’s kidding, but I don’t think so.
I’m too stunned and confused to press him until we’re pulling into the parking lot of an all-night Greek place set in the middle of a strip mall.
The place is teal-and-white, greasy and messy, with faded advertisements on the walls that clearly haven’t been changed in decades.
The waitress is an older black-haired woman who seems to recognize Gabe.
We get a quiet booth in the back and she immediately brings two cups of coffee.
Gabe places the wedding dress on the seat beside him, almost like a third person at our strange little meeting.
I look at the cup and can’t bring myself to do anything. I feel sick and my ankle aches badly. Gabe’s voice is gentle as he nudges the coffee closer.
“Drink. It’ll help.”
“You know what’ll help even more?” I lift my eyes, trying hard not to break down in tears. Crying isn’t going to help much right now, but I watched my entire life get vaporized and my emotions aren’t exactly steady. “You can tell me what the fuck is going on.”
I never curse. Aunt Yelena always said it was an ugly habit, even though she had the mouth of a drunk sailor. But right now feels like an appropriate moment to break that rule.
Gabe drinks his coffee meaningfully. I break, take a sip, and smash the cup back down in the saucer. Some spills over the rim.
That seems to satisfy him.
“Five months ago, your father died. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”
I wait to feel something, but I don’t. My father really was a total stranger. I used to want to know him, but I outgrew that a while back, when it became clear that it’s probably better if I don’t.
Except a few things start to make sense.
“That’s when Aunt Yelena left."
“She’s in Russia. When your father died, his network started to collapse. I suspect she went back to find out what was happening.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes, but she’s in Moscow and she’s not able to talk. Things are very chaotic there at the moment.”
“Aunt Yelena’s in Moscow… but I don’t understand.”
“How much do you know about your family?”
I try to think back. Aunt Yelena didn’t talk about it much. The men showed up, they asked questions, they made sure I was being good, but past that? “Nothing really. I know my father was someone important. I think he was very dangerous. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions.”
“Probably for the best.” He sighs and settles back against the booth.
I reach out on impulse with a napkin and press it against his cheek. He seems surprised and catches my wrist shockingly fast. His grip is firm and strong, right on the edge of painful. His charm is gone in an instant and I catch sight of a predator lurking underneath that attractive exterior.
“Bleeding,” I say meekly, heart racing into my throat.
He lets me go and picks up his own napkin. “Thanks,” he mutters, dabbing it until he finds the wounds and cleans himself.
I drink more coffee, shaken, trying to process. My dangerous father is dead. Aunt Yelena is back in Moscow, apparently in serious trouble. And this man is here, trying to save my life from missiles and killer drones and Turkish arms dealers.
“How do I fit into all this? I never met my father. His men checked in on me and I guess Aunt Yelena was his sister—“
“Actually, Yelena Dashkova was one of his top lieutenants.” His smile is apologetic. “She wasn’t related to you.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. This whole thing is so absurd I can barely take it. “We didn’t look alike,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I always figured, but god, it sucks hearing it.” I get myself under control and drink more coffee. “You still haven’t explained anything.”
“I know. I’m getting there. I want you to understand that this is all very real first.”
“As if the exploding apartment didn’t already do that?”
He concedes the point with a shrug. His eyes stray to the dress.
It sits in the corner like an open secret.
I know it’s there, watching me, and I really don’t like what it represents.
I doubt he showed up on my doorstep looking like that for no reason.
This night might’ve come together quickly, but he had a plan.
Only he’s taking his time nudging me in the right direction first.
“Why do I matter, Gabe?” I press.
“Your father was smart and extremely paranoid. He was the top brigadier for an even more powerful warlord named Medved.”
“Let me guess. Medved’s dead?”
“You’re good at this.”
“Seems like everyone’s dying these days.”
He nods at my joke and keeps talking. “Your father left behind a lot of enemies. There’s a reason he kept you hidden away.
You’re his only heir, the only blood child he ever conceived.
Very few people knew about you, until recently, and now they want to make sure there aren’t any members of his family left alive to claim his former power.
That’s why they want you dead, Nika. You’re a threat. ”
I snort at the thought. “I got fired last night because my boss grabbed my chest. How the hell am I a threat to anyone? I can’t even hold down a job without getting harassed.”
His expression hardens. “You didn’t ask him to touch you.”
“No, that’s true, but I didn’t have to punch him in the face.”
“Actually, it sounds like you did.”
“That’s not the point. I’m trying to say, I’m nobody.
I’m just some girl. Yeah, my dad gave me money over the years.
His men showed up and checked on me. I guess Aunt Yelena was one of his employees or whatever.
But I don’t know anything about his business.
I’m just…” I spread my hands, desperate, confused, and very upset. “I’m just nothing.”
Gabe sits with that. I let it sink in too.
I’m just nothing. I’ve been feeling that way for a long time, and now it hangs in the air like a poison cloud.
I’ve always had enough to be comfortable, but never enough to be happy.
I’ve never been pushed, never been knocked down, never been truly hurt, until recently.
“I’m here because you are far from nothing,” he says softly.
That charm is back, and I’m not sure how much I should trust it, even if I want to.
“I’m here to protect you, Nika, and to give you what’s rightfully yours.
I’m going to keep you safe, but you have to do something for me in exchange.
It won’t be easy, but I swear, I’ll die before I let anyone get near you. ”
I believe the last part. A cut on his cheek is still bleeding. I can almost feel his arms around me as he sheltered me from the explosion.
But now I start to see the shape of what’s going on. He needs something…
My eyes drift to the wedding dress. A cold dread fills me.
“What do you need from me?” I ask and I really don’t want to hear the answer.
But Gabe reaches out. His fingers brush mine. I go very still, heart beating fast. I lick my lips and want him to touch me again, but that’s probably a lingering head injury from the drone blast.
“If you want to survive the night, you’re going to marry me.”