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Something’s wrong.
I try to swallow, but my throat has gone numb. The inside of the car starts to go cloudy and hazy. I try and reach for the door handle. When I pull, I realize it’s locked.
“Open the door!” I yell.
But it’s not a yell. My voice is barely above a whisper.
My blood runs cold. What the fuck is happening.
I turn toward the partition, almost slamming my face into it as I lurch for the button. When it raises, all I see is my driver collapsed over the wheel.
My vision blurs. My mouth feels cottony, and I slump sideways across the back seat.
Oh, fuck.
My gaze swivels out the window, and my stomach drops when I see the plane door closing. With a surge of adrenaline, I hurl myself at the door, kicking and then slamming my fists against the window with the last of my strength.
A man suddenly steps in front of me, on the other side of the window.
“Hello, Gavan,” he rumbles through the phone in his hand into the one in mine.
My reality glitches. I can’t understand why Svetlana’s antiques appraiser is standing outside of my car.
“I’m sorry that we have never been properly introduced,” the man growls with a thin smile on his chiseled face. “Allow me to remedy that. My name is Drazen Krylov.”
Oh fuck.
Oh FUCK.
I blink rapidly, trying to force my vision to clear as I stab my gaze past him to the plane containing Eilish.
“I did say you had lovely taste, didn’t I?” Drazen purrs. “In fashion. In office decor, and art.” His lips curl. “Inwomen.”
My face goes livid, my lips snarling as I try to slam a hand against the window. But I’m too weak. The last of my strength feels like it’s seeping out of me like blood from a fatal blow.
“You…” I mumble.
“You have something that belongs to me, Gavan,” Drazen says quietly. “And now I am taking something that belongs toyouuntil I get it back.”
No…
“I’m texting you a location.” He lowers the phone and hammers something with his thumbs before bringing it back up to his ear. “You have twenty-four hours to bring the egg to—”
“The egg…” I blurt, the world spinning around me. “Is…smashed…”
He nods. “Yes, I know. Some people just can’t be trusted with nice things. Luckily,Ican be trusted withyournice thing, so long as you do what I ask.” He presses his forehead up against the window. “As I was saying. Twenty-four hours to bring thepiecesof the Imperial Shield along with the stand it sat on to the location I texted you. Come alone. And please don’t make me explain what will happen if you don’t do exactly as I say.”
The world starts fade.
Eilish.
Eilish…
“Sweet dreams, Mr. Tsarenko.”
Me eyes drop closed, and when I sink under, I just keep on sinking…
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