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“What about Charlotte?” I ask, dread clawing at the insides of my lungs. “Someone took her. What if Konstantin—”
“She knows about Konstantin?” Pyotr asks with a glare. “What the hell happened to keeping family matters within the family?”
“Can we deal with one angry Russian at a time, please,” Dimitri says, exasperated.
“We need to get you out of here first,” Mikhail tells me. “We’ll worry about Charlotte after. Right now, there’s nothing else we can do. Konstantin couldn’t have done this himself. He likely has men helping him. If so, there’s a good chance they’ll be back once they realize they’ve got the wrong girl.”
I gulp. Guilt churns in my stomach. The wrong girl? Does Konstantin know about Mikhail and me? It’s true Mikhail led me away at The Red Orchid, but there’s no way Konstantin could have known we were seeing each other. That’s not even the first concern I have. How the fuck did Konstantin figure out where I live? What would have happened if I’d come home last night? It could have beenmyblood splattered everywhere.
“Bring her to my home,” Catherina says. Her tone leaves little room to argue. “It is a relatively secluded location. She will be safest there.”
Mikhail nods. “Right. We’ll figure out what to do once we’re there.”
“I’ll stay behind and see if I can pick anything up on the local traffic cameras,” Luka says before turning to me. “Are there security cameras in the lobby?”
“Y-yes,” I stutter, too hopped up on adrenaline to keep my voice level. “There’s one facing the main entrance of the building.”
“Then we might be able to catch a glimpse of whoever took your roommate.”
Mikhail pats me gently on the small of my back. “Go pack a bag, Aurora. Just the necessities. We leave in ten minutes.”
I don’t have the strength to argue.
* * *
The drive to Montauk, New York, takes us roughly two and a half hours. Dimitri, Pyotr, and Luka stay behind to ‘take care’ of the apartment. I’m not too sure what they meant, but if my mother’s old crime novels are correct, they’re probably getting rid of any incriminating evidence that could lead nosy neighbors to ask the wrong types of questions. The fewer people involved in this matter, the better.
Catherina goes ahead in her own car. She drives like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds. I suddenly understand where Mikhail must have picked up his bad driving habits.
My things are shoved into a big duffle bag I happened to find in the back of my closet, sitting on the car floor in the back of Mikhail’s Porsche like a heavy black pit. He has the AC cranked up for me. The radio is off. We haven’t said a word to each other, the uncertainty lingering in the air too difficult to navigate through. It’s just as well. I’ve never been this far east, and the view of the ocean is very beautiful. It’s just a shame I can’t enjoy it. My nerves are in such shambles it’s honestly a miracle I haven’t thrown up all over his dashboard.
We drive up to a secluded property near the most northern tip of the island. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Large stretches of land roll and dip, tall grass swaying with the seaside breeze. The house itself is massive, practically a villa. It has burnt red tile roofing, sunbaked beige siding, and the carved columns holding up the entrance. The windows are massive, too, complimenting the lovely French double doors out front. But as beautiful as it is…
“Why can’t I stay with you?” I ask Mikhail softly.
We park out front. He kills the engine.
“In all likelihood, Konstantin has eyes on my place,” he says. “You wouldn’t be safe there.”
“But you would?”
“He doesn’t want to hurt me. Just scare me.”
“Yet,” I reply pointedly. “He doesn’t want to hurt youyet.”
“I know this is less than ideal, but it’s the best we can come up with on such short notice. My mother will take care of you.”
“What about the internship? Won’t people wonder what happened to me? The Tech Bros are going to come up with all sorts of assumptions.”
“The Tech Bros?”
“Oh, that’s what I call the other interns. They’ve got, like, their own little club going on.”
“I’ll come up with a perfectly viable excuse,” Mikhail promises. “Once this matter is cleared up, I’m more than happy to have you back at CyberFort.”
I squirm in my seat, glancing out at Catherina’s villa. “I don’t like this, Misha. Will I even get to see you?”
“I’ll come and visit as often as I can.”
