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“Andrei.” My voice cracked with tamped-down emotion. I stepped toward him, but my movements faltered at the tick in his jaw as he looked me up and down.
“You didn’t kill him, Tasha,” he said, the words as icy as his glare.
This was the tone he used with others, never with me.
That was part of the agreement with the Ruska Roma. I get them access to my wedding, and then I kill Yuri while they mow down as many others as possible.
But surely, they’d understand—Andrei, at least, would understand.
“Andrei.” I raised a hand as if to touch him, but there was still so much distance between us. “We can try again, no? Once you and I are in America. We will make a new plan when we get to New York.” I let my arm drop when he looked away, gnawing on his bottom lip. The scar that cut through his eyebrow glinted in the setting sun.
Anxiousness prickled over my skin.
There was something he wasn’t telling me.
Hope drained from my body as he glanced back to me, his handsome face set in a harsh scowl. “There is nowe, Tasha. Now go, keep the plan. I will see you in a few weeks.”
The words hit like a slap. He’d been so nice to, made me feel included, like I had a say in my future.
He was playing with me.
“I said, fucking go. This littlecrushyou have needs to stop.” He spat out the words like they were bitter on his tongue. “Leave. Katya will house you when you arrive.” He turned his head, dismissing me.
I ran, my world shattering in my wake.
I would never trust another to hold my heart.
I’d walkedmiles away from the cathedral before getting in a cab and taking it to the airport. My body was starting to manifest signs of my distress physically, and I had to pull my sleeves over my hands to hide the tremor. Freshly box-dyed brunette locks fell into my face, but I didn’t bother pushing them out of the way, letting them act as another layer of defense between my identity and those looking for me.
“Miss. Miss?”
My head popped up when I realized the lady behind the counter was speaking to me. I moved to the ticketing window, and the cheerful smile she’d started with fell at the sight of my battered state. The men’s sweatshirt I wore was covered in filth, and I knew my eyes were rimmed with dark circles.
“I need to buy a plane ticket,” I muttered, peering around to see if anyone was watching me too closely.
Her thin lips opened and closed, making her look like a gaping fish.
“Can you help me buy a ticket or not?” I bit out, gripping the wad of cash and the fake ID tucked in my pocket. The irritation in my tone snapped her out of her trance. She pulled her eyes away, a tinge of pink crawling up her wrinkled neck. She shook her head as if that movement alone could clear the awkwardness of my presence.
“Yes, of course. Where is it you want to go?” She asked, the clacking of keys filling the uncomfortable silence stretching between us.
“New York. A one-way ticket.” I turned my back slightly to the person standing at the window to my right, making sure to keep my voice low.
The Bratva had ears everywhere in this damn city, and I didn’t want to take a chance of someone overhearing. It was already a risk talking to someone, but there was no way around that. I’d waited in this elderly woman’s line for a reason—she was the least likely candidate for being on Yuri’s payroll. Of course, the paranoia had been screaming at me for the past fifteen minutes that maybe that’s what made her the perfect spy.
But there was no going back now.
Her head bobbed once in acknowledgment of my request. “And the name on the ticket?” she asked, clearly avoiding looking at me.
“Nat…Nikki. My name is Nikki Adams,” I breathed out, panic clawing at my throat as my new name fell from my tongue.
Natasha was dead. Burned to ashes.
And Nikki was the woman who’d risen.
CHAPTER 2
NIKKI
