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This time, they don’t sweep the car for weapons. We’re waved urgently ahead, and the gate opens with a screech to let us pass.
I pick myself off the floorboards and crawl onto my seat. But when I glance sideways at the window, nausea overwhelms me at the sight of fresh blood.
When the car pulls up to the main building, there are a number of luxury vehicles parked along the roundabout. The cocktail reception kicked off hours ago, but I came later as Alek instructed.
A butler comes scurrying down the front steps, his eyes shifting from side to side as he wrings his hands. When he approaches the driver’s side door, Ivan rolls down his window to speak with him in fast Russian.
I wish I could understand what they were saying because I hate not knowing what’s going on. With a glance over my shoulder, I scan the grounds of the estate, which are illuminated by the golden light pouring from the windows.
But they only reach the tree line, and beyond that, the forest is dark. I pull my coat tighter around my shoulders.
“Willow, this man says I am to take you to the hunting lodge,” Ivan states.
“Yeah, that’s right. Alek is waiting for me there.”
“Okay, I will drive you. You will stay there until morning.”
“Morning?” I ask. “Why?”
Ivan sets his lips into a thin line, and the look on his face tells me things are worse than we realized. “Let us give your father a call.”
The butler points down the driveway, giving Ivan directions in Russian. After a few moments, Ivan nods and rolls up the window, and we begin to roll slowly through the expansive grounds.
Ivan calls my dad over the speakerphone.
“Hey, Ivan. Everything alright?”
“Sir, there has been a protest at the President’s Estate. It turned violent and they attacked the car.”
“Is Willow okay?” His voice rises in panic.
“Yes, she is here right now.”
My father releases an audible sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Sir, things are still uncertain, but the President’s Guard is locking down the estate until morning so they can search the grounds for any resistance fighters who might try to get close to the president’s residence. We will have to stay the night here.”
My dad releases a string of curses in the background.
“I will call the agency to send additional protection to your house,” Ivan says. “Willow is safe in my care.”
“Thank you, Ivan. I’m sorry you won’t get to go home to your family tonight.”
“It is my duty, sir.”
“I’ll be sure to give you a huge bonus,” my dad says. “If you hear of anything else, let me know. I need to call Washington and give them an update.”
“I will.”
“Willow? Stay safe tonight. Remember, you are representing your country in President Kurochkin’s presence.”
I flinch, realizing my dad thinks I’m attending a boring cocktail party for Alek’s birthday. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“I love you, honey.”
This time, I don’t go off on him for calling me that.
After a few seconds of silence, my dad disconnects the call with a click.
