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F I V E
Iwas definitely out of shape.
I’d been on the treadmill for less than ten minutes, and I was already breathing heavily and sweating like the sun was right above me, melting me.
The last time I’d been to the gym was on November fourth, the previous year, and it definitely felt like it. I wasn’t trying to lose weight—I was trying to release all the stress that had built up over the last few weeks.
It had been exactly one month since I’d seen Davorin at the club. After the conversation on my balcony—if it could be called that—he’d maintained radio silence.
I still felt eyes on me wherever I went. It didn’t matter if I was spending time in Aleksei’s house, which I’d done a lot recently, or in Tiana’s apartment, I still felt him everywhere, at all times.
I’d taken the cameras down, and to my surprise, no more had been put up. Perhaps he’d given up on his delusions, or perhaps one of his jobs had got him killed. Either way, it was a great situation for me.
If I ignored the feeling of being followed all the damn time.
I was getting paranoid, and paranoia mixed with anger was a very dangerous combination for me.
My father called, but I never answered. The moment one of his voicemails began to play, I smashed the phone. Of course, each one was filled with threats, adjectives I never wanted to repeat, and threats that my time was running out—that he would be coming for me soon.
It pissed me off. Aleksei hadn’t responded to my request, seemingly ignoring it, so it was only a matter of time before I took matters into my hands, because the world needed to be cleansed of Bogdan Kalashnik.
And that was where Davorin came into the picture. If I played it smart, I could use him to my advantage when I made my move. Would my father’s death raise suspicion, even incite war within the inner circle? Absolutely, but the aftermath never preoccupied my thoughts. I’d take whatever consequences came my way with open arms, as long as it the consequence wasn’t my death. I still had a long way to go, things to do before I died.
I hopped off the treadmill, using the towel I’d thrown over my shoulders to wipe the sweat from my forehead. I struggled to breathe, and the room-temperature water wasn’t cutting it. I needed ice, though I knew how bad it was for my body.
My break lasted less than five minutes. I needed to get back on the treadmill before all my newfound motivation vanished. I put in my AirPods, and played one of the first audiobooks I found,The Silent Patient.
Listening to the book helped the time pass more quickly; I hadn’t realized an hour had gone by. I was so engrossed in the story that I’d blocked out the pain in my calves and feet. And by the time I was done with my workout, the gym was empty.
I wasn’t afraid of the dark, though it chilled me knowing I was the only one there, and it was already past nine in the evening. Why was I doing this to myself? Why the hell was I exercising at night?
I felt appalled by the mere thought of having a shower in the gym bathroom. Lord knew how many people had been there before me, how many germs had been left behind, and how often it was deep cleaned.
I’d driven to the gym as I’d been bored out of my mind and driving always helped me to relax. Aside from coming up with vicious plans on how to end my father’s life, and thinking about the stalker who’d gone off grid, there wasn’t much else for me to do.
Tiana was still shaken up by what had happened at the restaurant. I didn’t understand it. She wasn’t the one who’d killed Luca; nor was she responsible for it. And for better or for worse, it had brought her and Nick closer together. They spent every waking minute together now.
When I reached home, I took the longest shower I’d had in a while. I was underneath the blistering water for over forty minutes, and by the time I was done, I only felt like having a drink before going to bed.
I wanted to do more research on Davorin. For whatever reason, the man was constantly on my mind, an obsession I couldn’t purge. The paranoia of being under his surveillance twenty-four-seven had become deeply embedded in my brain, but so had a fear that excited me.
If Aleksei didn’t do what I’d asked, I would need to get Davorin to do it. Money wasn’t an issue—I had plenty of it. However, it wasn’t something just anyone would agree to do.
But if getting his help meant indulging in whatever fantasy he had, I was going to do it.
What worried me was the possibility he would decline yet remain in my life. He was another person who came into my personal space unwarranted, and having no control over the situation vexed me to no end.
To get the upper hand—at least slightly—I needed to stop waiting for him and go to him first. But that was rather difficult, as he wasn’t an easy man to track down.
I opened my laptop, set down a whole bottle of whiskey beside it, and dialed a number on my phone. There was only person who would be willing to help me, at least as much as she could.
“Did I wake you?” I asked once she picked up. I didn’t really care if I had, but it was a polite conversation starter.
“Are you mental?” she retorted. “Of course you woke me up. It’s five in the morning here.”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. I’d forgotten about the time difference between New York and Moscow, and Xenia wasn’t thrilled.
“Ah, I apologize.”
