“Here you are,” my sister’s voice chirps behind me.
I turn to find her sweaty and breathless, messy bun barely holding together, wearing the loose black sweatpants and oversized T-shirt I bought for her—anything to keep her hidden from thewrongkind of attention.
If that ever fails, we have Bobo—the girls' guard for emergencies. She knows how to call him. She knows where the emergency buttons are hidden across the bar.
She’s prepared.
“I just finished cleaning the last private room available,” she says, “and I got a message from Solas’s man. He said Solas is dead—”
My gasp cuts her off.
“Solas is dead?”
I stare at her to make sure I’m not hearing things wrong.
She nods and hands me her cracked phone.
I told her to cut contact with that man. Clearly, she didn’t listen. But right now, I’m too stunned to argue. I snatch the phone from her, scrolling through the recent messages until I find it.
Kroshka, Solas is dead. Something to do with Maleciandro Spallo, the Italians. My visit will be delayed a few days. I’ll deliver everything to Fedor on Wednesday.
10:05 p.m.
My grip tightens around the phone, white-knuckled.
“Why is he calling you ‘Kroshka’like you’rehislittle toy?” I spit, fury boiling over. “And why the fuck did you keep talking to him after I told you not to?”
The words slam out of me too loudly. Her hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and yanking me into the dressing room. The door slams shut behind us with a bang that makes my chest jerk.
Oh, shit. I was too loud.
Every nerve screams. We can’t afford to be overheard. Especially not here. Nobody knows we’re Fedor Morozov’s daughters.
“You’re being unreasonable!” she hisses, digging her fingers into my arms. “I’m getting you that medicine whether you help me or not. I don’t care if he thinks I’m his or that I’m flirting. The second we figure out what’s in that medicine you need, we’regone.”
I swallow, pulse hammering. The anger I felt a second ago tastes like ash in my mouth now, mingling with the sick spike of panic.
“Di,” I try to keep my voice calm, but she beats me to it, frowning hard.
“You’renotpushing me out of this. I’m in it just as deep as you are. I’m not losing you. Or Mom.” Her words hit like a blade straight to the chest. I have to breathe through it. I can’t break in front of her.
“I can’t help you once you meet him, Di. I can’t bear to lose you.” My voice cracks. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the tears.
“I know the risks I’m taking. And now that Solas is dead, Dad’s going to move the wedding up to gain more manpower. We can’t waste any more time. We need that medicine.”
She stands taller, straight-backed. She’s only fifteen, but she’s already—almost—catching up to my five-foot-seven height. Already too grown.
“If it’ll make you feel better, let’s plan it together.” She tries to meet me halfway, offering peace.
“You can come with me.”
I stare at her, searching for any sign that she’ll back down.
She won’t.
She’s stubborn.
I made her this way.
