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“No.” Yasha grins. “Ivan was my target.”
“Oh.” I remember the way Ivan dealt with the assassin this morning. He claimed that was merciful. What would no mercy look like?
“I know better than to cross him now,” Yasha chuckles. “At the time, I thought he was just some useless rich kid. I broke into his car and stole his phone. I didn’t make it three blocks before he charged out of an alley and tackled me.”
“And you survived?” I blurt.
“Yeah. But only because that was Ivan’s plan all along. He’s the one who hired me.”
I frown. “That’s what I said, and you said—”
“There’s an artform to storytelling, Cora. It wouldn’t be interesting if you guessed right away. I was building suspense.” He sighs and continues. “Anyway, apparently, I’d hit one of the Pushkin warehouses a couple weeks prior. Ivan was tasked by his father to shore up security. He figured the best way to do that would be to go straight to the thief who broke in. I started out on the security team and worked my way up.”
“You stole from him…and he rewarded you with a job?”
“And a house,” Yasha adds. “We roomed together for a while, actually. Ivan moved out on his own for a few years once he was eighteen. He wanted some space to…roam,shall we say. We had an apartment in the city.”
I don’t even want to ask all the many ways Ivanroamedduring that period of time. I’m going to take an “ignorance is bliss” approach to much of Ivan’s personal life.
“Ivan is…” Yasha shakes his head like he can’t find quite the right words. “A good man. He’s a better man than he likes to let on, at least.”
Every time I blink, I see him pressing a gun to that man’s head this morning. I hear the deafening bang of the discharge. I see blood on the expo counter.
Ivan saved me. But a “good man” would have called the police, wouldn’t he?
Yasha sweeps the golden marigold petals onto the patio and stands up with a groan. “Well, good chat.”
“Where are you going? I thought Niles was going to bring us lunch.”
“He’ll bringyoulunch. I have work to do.”
I subconsciously glance towards the stone fence again.
“You’re safe here, Cora. I swear it.” Yasha digs into his pocket and then places a phone on the table. “This is yours. Some numbers are programmed in there. If you’re in trouble and no one is around, you can call for help.”
I lunge for the phone like it’s a lifeline. My own phone is still in my locker back at Quintaño's. I navigate to the contacts and feel my chest ease at the site of my friends’ names. Ivan’s name listed right next to theirs gives me a jolt of something I don’t quite understand and don’t want to.
“Thank you.” I give Yasha a sincere smile. “Really. Thanks.”
He nods. “It was Ivan’s idea.”
My smile fades. “Okay, so where’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch. Just don’t tell anyone your exact location. And play up the story that the two of you are madly in love and getting married. If it’s going to work, everyone needs to believe it.”
“But my friends—”
“Are depending on your acting skills,” he finishes. “If you blow your own cover, we’ll know. Your calls will be monitored by the Pushkin security team. Before you get all offended, they do that for every call that originates inside the compound. It’s another security feature to make sure we don’t have a rat.” Yasha arches a brow. “So you’ll be fine…as long as you’re not a rat.”
“I’m not a rat. I’m here against my will, remember?”
Yasha runs a hand through his light hair and glances around. “Don’t let Ivan hear you say that.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just…I think you should try to make the best of things while you’re here.” He gestures around to the meticulously landscaped yard and blue sky. “It’s nice.”
“Prisons can be nice,” I mutter.
