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The look on Vladimir’s face suggests mild disappointment, as if he’d been hoping I’d say something that would give him justification to do something stupid.
“Smart man. Now, off with you.”
No one speaks to me like that. My instinct is to crush him, to grab his face with my palm and smash the back of his head through the wall behind him. I quickly push those sentiments to the side. It’s not the time for such violence.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder. Valentina gives me a knowing look as I step out of the apartment, the door shutting behind me.
Moments later, I’m outside, bracing myself against the unending winter chill, loneliness wrapped around me tightly as my coat.
Chapter 13
Valentina
The weight of his absence presses on me like a heavy cloak the moment Roman is gone. The world, which moments ago was a cacophony of emotions—lust, fear, tension, joy—seems abruptly muted. Every sound, every sensation, feels distant and indistinct. It's as if I'm underwater, lost in the enigma that is Roman.
But then, an all-too-familiar voice slices through the quiet, tugging me back to the surface. “What’s going on, Valentina?”
I turn, facing Vladimir, his eyes scrutinizing, sharp like a falcon’s. The history between us is long, winding, and often treacherous. We've always walked a fine line between trust and suspicion.
“I’ve been watching,” he continues, his tone icy. “This isn’t just business with him, is it?”
I gather my strength, forcing myself into the role I've perfected over the years—the stoic, unyielding assassin. “He’s my next target,” I admit, pushing down the unease. “I’m getting close to him, just as I was instructed.”
Vladimir studies me, the weight of his gaze making my skin prickle. "You've never let a target get this close before. You're playing a dangerous game."
I stiffen, defensive. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" he counters, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Because from where I stand, it looks like you're getting entangled in a web you might not be able to escape easily.”
I grind my teeth, feeling the heat of anger bubble within. "This is different. He's not like the others. Roman has connections, information we need. My approach is calculated."
Vladimir narrows his eyes, searching my face for any hint of deceit. "You better not fuck this up. The family is relying on you to handle this discreetly and efficiently. You know the consequences of failure."
I swallow hard, the gravity of the situation weighing on me. "I won't fail."
He nods slowly, clearly not entirely convinced. "See that you don't. Because if you let feelings get in the way, if you slip up even for a moment, it's not just you who pays the price."
I hold his gaze, letting the threat sink in. Vladimir may be family, but he's also the gatekeeper of our secrets. His allegiance isn’t to me, it's to the cause, the larger picture.
The room grows heavy with unspoken warnings, promises of retribution should things go awry. But deep down, a small voice nags at me. The line between duty and desire has blurred, and as much as I want to deny it, Roman isn’t just another mark on my list. He’s wormed his way into places I never thought I’d allow anyone to reach, and now, I’m trapped in a dilemma of my own making.
And while Vladimir stands there, exuding authority and warning, I realize the greatest threat isn't the mission itself or even the wrath of my family. It's the battle raging within me, a clash between the heart and duty.
The moment Vladimir and I lock eyes once again, the atmosphere becomes electrically tense, charged with unsaid words and emotions.
"Valentina," he begins, pacing the room slowly with an air of contemplation. His gaze never leaves mine, the intensity never wavering. "I've been aware of Roman's identity for a while now."
My heart thuds, its rhythm erratic. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" The betrayal stings, coming from the one person I thought I could always trust.
Vladimir stops pacing, leaning against the back of a worn-out armchair, crossing his arms. "I was curious," he admits, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Wanted to see how you'd play it. It’s not like the Ghost to become so entangled with her prey." He takes a deliberate pause, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "Especially not in... intimate ways."
My cheeks blaze with embarrassment and anger. I hate that he’s right, and even more, I hate that he's seen right through me. "Is this your way of accusing me of being unprofessional?" I challenge, taking a step closer to him. "Or are you simply making an observation?"
The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk, a familiar expression that used to bring warmth to my heart, but now only adds to my aggravation. "Merely an observation. But it’s fascinating, isn't it? You’ve always kept a distance, never allowing emotions to bleed into your work. Yet now... now there's Roman."
The defensiveness surges inside me, ready to spill over. "Are you insinuating I can't handle this? That I’m somehow compromised?"
Vladimir pushes off from the armchair, advancing until we’re merely feet apart. "It’s not a matter of capability, Valentina. I know you're more than capable. It’s a question of clarity. Can you see clearly through the haze of attraction? Or are emotions clouding your judgment?"
