“Is that really what Zoya is to you? An asset?”
“Zoya isn’t the only one at risk.”
I step toward him. “Exactly. You’re at risk. I’m at risk. Your Bratva is at risk. It only makes sense to go the safe route.”
“No risk, no reward.”
“We’ve both risked enough. Don’t you think?”
His expression doesn’t change, but I can feel the disappointment in his gaze. “Zoya deserves more than playing it safe. She deserves justice. She deserves success.”
I ignore the bite. “She deserves for things to be donecorrectly, Pavel. What do you have against that?”
“She’s in pain.”
That horrified expression flickers to life before burning out entirely. His facade barely cracks. But I catch it. Without a doubt, I recognize it.
I drift back to the bathroom doorway.He’s desperate to get her back.
Pavel doesn’t notice the space I’m putting between us. Either that or he doesn’t care. He’s too busy staring at his phone with his jaw tensing as he reviews that dreadful image of Zoya that’s been burned into the back of his mind the same way it’s been burned into mine.
He’s trying so hard to save her. He’s probably doing it to make things right with Kiril. Even though Kiril betrayed Pavel, he died valiantly, giving his life up so his daughter might live.
His only request was for her to be protected. By any means. And Pavel took that seriously.
My eyes drop to the ground. A knot forms in my throat.
Thoughts race through my mind at the speed of light. I can barely cling to any of them, my attention spanning past my limit. Pavel keeps staring at his phone. It must be the picture keeping his attention.
Is that the face he would make if I was in Zoya’s place? Would he risk his life for me if it was me in her place? Would he do everything in his power to make sure I was safe?
I shudder.Of course he would do that. He loves me. He said so himself.
But that look…
A new terror takes hold of me. It’s an age-old assumption, the return of an ugly monster that will fester unless I do something about it.
But whyshouldI do anything about it? I shake my head and walk toward the dresser.
I hear his voice, but it sounds far away. “Liya?”
Fresh clothes. That’s what I need. That’ll help me get through this. Comfortable clothes are the best way to cope with things that haven’t yet succeeded.
Soundlessly, I strip out of my dress and pull on sweats and a tank. The motions are reassuring. But my thoughts aren’t.
The mattress behind me creaks. Abangechoes somewhere in the house. My skin prickles with paranoia until I hear Stepan call out in Russian. He’s not stressed. He’s just cursing.
My head weighs heavily. My shoulders bow forward until I’m leaning against the dress with my back to the room, totally exposed and vulnerable. I should turn around. I should do something. I can go for that walk.
Zoya’s familiar. She’s pretty. She can do just about anything, and she knows the Bratva.I glance at the window.That’s why he wants to save her so badly.
I dig my fingers into my hair.He can’t let her go.
Why is everything in my head soloud?
“Liya!”
Pavel snaps me out of my own spiraling thoughts. I’m gasping for air asI stare into his eyes, noticing that the worried look has doubled.