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Without my heels, I’m only about five foot six. My neck cramps when I stare up at this guy, who looks to be about eight freaking feet tall.
“My boss is very interested in having you perform for him.”
Eww. His words drip with suggestion, and it’s pretty clear that “perform for him” means he has no intention of providing me with a piano.
I need to get the hell away from here now.
The stench of stale whiskey and cigars on his breath makes my stomach roil.
He brings a hand to his chest. I blink fast.
Did I just see—?
I swallow a gasp when the soft white light from one of the hallway sconces falls upon the tip of the knife in his hand. The steel glimmers, my pulse punching a hole through my chest. If I scream, who knows what he’ll do with that blade? I use knives at mealtime, period. I don’t have any idea how to defend myself against one. I’m a pianist, not an assassin.
My blood curdles as he edges closer, this time with the knife pointed at me. Even though I’m used to fans finding me after my in-person piano concerts, this guy doesn’t scream “typical musical enthusiast.”
He screams “scary and deadly, knife-wielding dude.”
I don’t waste time with any more analysis. You approach me in an empty hallway looking creepy as fuck, and I’m going to run like hell, especially with the kinds of lowlife scumbags who’ve been hunting my family.
But he can’t be one of them. He can’t possibly know my real identity. I’ve been so careful with my appearance, not only to protect myself, but my baby girl.
“Don’t try to run,Larysa.” His hulking body casts a shadow over me. “You can’t escape. And you can’t hide. I found you once, and I will find you again.”
My lungs squeeze tight like they’ve been lassoed with a heavy metal chain. The chain tugs hard. I can barely choke out a breath.
He knows my real name…
I drop everything except my handbag and make a mad dash toward what looks like a red Exit sign down the hallway. It’s a little blurry since I’m overdue for an eye exam, but it empowers me anyway. Convincing myself that it’s my ticket to freedom, I run faster. My leg muscles tense and tighten with each step.
“Help. Someone, please help me!”
With a breathless glance over my shoulder, I see the man smirking where he stands.
He’s not chasing me.
But that doesn’t stop me from fleeing the psycho.
He knows my real name.
He’s one of the hunters.
Where the hell are my brothers? Were they trying to call me?
My breath hitches.
Daniela. My baby.
That man tracked me here.
Could he have found her, too?
My heart pounds hard, the thick rubber soles of my slippers slapping against the polished tile floor because I refuse to slow down. I hurl myself against the door under the now clear Exit sign and nothing.
Another scream escapes my lips. I shove the door again but it doesn’t open.
I whirl around to my right. No ushers, no security, no janitors.
