Page 77 of Unholy Tsar

I end up dozing off, only waking up when my stomach is rumbling with hunger. I groggily open my eyes to see the fading light through the windows signaling the end of another day.

Lovely, just what I needed, another thrilling day of solitude and boredom...

Dragging myself off the couch, I wash myself up in the bathroom, then head back to find another platter of food already waiting for me.

God, I’m going to come back from Russia with 15 pounds on me, at least.

“Can we go down to the lobby? I’d like a change of scenery,” I tell Dmitiri, the head of my security, as my plate is being cleared. After talking with someone in his earpiece, he agrees.

We—Dmitri, me, and five armed men—head down to the lobby, and I politely ask them to give me space as I walk around, watching the people come and go. But even that quickly loses its charm.

And then, like a sudden spark, an old instinct kick in: a desire to slip away from these watchful eyes. That thought is immediately met by another. Don’t. It’s dangerous. He could get you.

My chest tightens.

No. He is dead.

It should feel like a victory, but instead, it feels like I’m the one who’s become a ghost.

Maybe I should give in to the instinct anyway… So I can feel alive again…

“Just a little adventure,” I promise myself. Keeping my head on a swivel, I discreetly glance around. When no one’s paying attention, I seize the moment to click open a half-hidden side door and slip out.

The crisp air hits me like a refreshing wave, and I feel like I can finally breathe again. Ahead, my eyes fall upon a row of vibrant flowers, and I’m instantly drawn toward them. I want to take in their scent, to feel their soft petals against my skin.

Before I can reach them, though, a small crowd near a giant fountain catches my attention. Tourists are taking pictures and throwing coins into the water. Like a distracted puppy, I change course and join them.

A smile pulls at my lips as I’m surrounded by ordinary people. Their excitement is contagious. I float through the laughter and dip my feet in the fountain, imagining I’m just a regular girl again. It’s almost a freeing thought… until I think of Maksim.

Imagining a life without him, a life where we never met, doesn’t seem like much of a life at all. Not anymore. I just wish he had more time for me.

“Hey, does anyone have a coin I can borrow?” I hear myself ask the crowd. No one answers. Maybe they don’t speak English. I’m on my feet, ready to pantomime, when the sound of screeching wheels lifts the hair on my nape.

I glance over my shoulder toward the extravagant hotel entrance. A familiar car has pulled up outside. My heart skips a beat when Maksim gets out of the back seat.

Ducking behind a wide-set man and his family, I peer through arms and shoulders, feeling a bit naughty. But that feeling quickly turns to confusion when I get a good look at the man I followed across the world.

He looks… wrong. Different.

There’s a dark energy about him. It’s not even that he’s scowling or anything. It’s his eyes. Even from here, they're practically black and so, so cold. The danger I always sensed in him has never been so evident, or so terrifying.

Three beefy men get out of the car and flank him. The tourists go silent and shift away from him as he approaches, and there’s a collective sigh of relief when he walks into the hotel.

I should probably follow him. This is the first time in days he’s been back from his meetings this early.

Later, a little voice says from the back of my head. Enjoy this little slice of normal. Let Maksim have his danger. Find a coin. Make your wish.

“Just what the hell are you doing so far from home with a man who can make a rowdy crowd go that silent anyway, Cece?” I mutter to myself.

Then, my stomach sinks a little.

What home?

Turning, I stare at the rippling water of the fountain as coins are thrown. Then, just like that, the bustling crowd around me goes disturbingly quiet again.

Shaking my head, I follow their line of sight all the way to a big glass window near the hotel’s entrance. Muffled shouts emanate from inside them, hinting at a commotion. I step closer, wondering what’s happening, and the scene inside quickly becomes clearer.

Someone is being choked.