Page 153 of Marrying the Savage

Seen.

My whole body goes still.

There. He saw it.

For a moment, satisfaction blooms in my chest. I have just tossed a match into a room full of men soaked in gasoline and told myself I’m only trying to find an exit.

If Dmitri comes, there will be trouble.

If there is trouble, people may get hurt.

My fingers tighten around the phone.

I message Anya: Change of plan. Something may happen tomorrow. Be ready.

Her reply comes instantly.

Anya: Sofia.

Then another.

Anya: What did you do.

Me: What needs to be done.

Anya: If you get out, go to the service road behind the shopping complex.

Me: Okay.

Anya: Sofia, don’t get yourself killed.

I don’t answer that, because I can’t promise it.

The next morning, I dress carefully. Marina brings me new clothes: black trousers, a cream sweater, and a coat that still has a tag on it. I check the tag twice.

“These are new,” Marina says quietly.

I look at her. “Really?”

“Yes.”

That small kindness hits harder than it should.

“Thank you.”

She nods and looks away, giving me a moment to recover.

Downstairs, the house is already prepared like we’re going to a war zone instead of a shopping appointment. Two black cars are waiting outside. Nikolai is speaking to one of the guards. Marina stands near the second car with a large handbag. Damir is by the first car, wearing a black coat and looking completely calm.

He looks up when I come down the stairs. His eyes move over me. “You look better,” he says.

I glance down at my sweater. “That’s because I am no longer dressed by ghosts.”

His expression stills for a second.

Then he says, “Good.”

I lift my chin. “Try not to scare the saleswomen.”