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Maybe, she suggested, Yevgeniy simply wasn’t interested in Galina.
That idea alone left me reeling, because it meant that I was wrong.
No, I’m not wrong about this, I think savagely now. I can’t be wrong. Yevgeniy was following Galina for a reason. Not being able to predict that man’s actions isn’t just galling … It’s dangerous. But that’s all behind me now.
With some effort, I force myself back to the present.
I twist my ring and wonder again at how my plot could have fallen apart. I cross one leg over the other, swaying my foot up and down in agitation. But I can’t focus. The weight of the ring beckons, as if reminding me of my newfound connection—fake as it is—with Galina.
And suddenly, as if summoned by my mind, Galina bursts into my study.
“Arsen!” Galina shouts as she flies in. “Arsen, oh my God, there you are! It’s awful!”
“What is it?” I’m already on my feet, meeting her in the middle of the room. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes are wide. The skin along her chest and neck is patchy red.
She’s panicking. Something must’ve happened! My pulse begins to quicken.
“My mother just called me.” Throwing herself into my arms, she lets out a shuddering breath. “Someone shot up the studio!”
I feel my heart dropping away into a bottomless pit. The sensation sinks into my heels, down and down, as Galina’s panicked voice drifts further away. A thudding, louder than parade drums, grows in my ears, and it takes me a few moments before I realize that I’m hearing my own heart thundering against my rib cage.
I see myself touching her, but I don’t feel the ends of my arms.
Someone dared to pepper her studio with bullets. I have an awful suspicion that this could have been Yevgeniy, but it seems too reckless. But if not him … then who? Simon? Could her ex be attempting to provoke a reaction now that he can no longer stalk her?
But as soon as the second thought enters my head, I immediately discard it. No, it can’t be. The man is a coward—most stalkers are. Only Yevgeniy would be rash enough to choose explosive violence like this.
But why?
I had assumed that he wanted Galina alive for some unknown purpose. But maybe I was wrong? Then again, maybe this shooting wasn’t meant for Galina.
There’s something I’m not seeing here. I’m sure of it.
“Arsen?”
The thumping fades and I return to my body, holding her in my arms. My eyes find hers and catch sight of her terrified face.
And just like that, I’m overwhelmed by an unstoppable need to protect her. To keep her safe. To kill anyone who put that look on her face.
“Was anybody hurt?” I ask quietly.
“No, thank goodness.” She slumps against me, her strength sapped by the ordeal. “But my mother is shaken up. And if I’m being totally honest, so am I.” A look of distress flashes across her face. “Do you think the shooting had anything to do with Yevgeniy?”
“It’s a possibility that I can’t rule out.”
Suddenly she draws herself taller, and she approaches me with purpose. Her eyes are narrowed, and her lips are pressed tight.
“You promised you’d protect her. That was our deal.”
“My men can’t stop a random shooting.”
“They should have!” she snaps, poking me in the chest. “Your obedient soldiers should have seen him or whoever coming and …”
“And done what? Shot first?” I snap.
Galina turns away, her anger leaking from her like a balloon losing air. “I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s happening out there.” She takes a huge breath, exhales, takes another. Finally, she looks up at me. The anger is gone, and in its place is the fear from earlier.
