Page 12

When we finish, I gather the trash and start to stand, but Mikhail is faster. He takes the tray from me without a word, depositing it in the bin by the door as we head back to where Torres is waiting.
The car hums to life, and we’re back on the road. The quiet settles in again, but it’s not uncomfortable. I’m lost in my own thoughts, staring out at the passing landscape, when my phone buzzes loudly in my lap.
I glance at the screen, groaning when Randall’s name flashes across it.
Mikhail’s gaze flicks to me, curious, but he says nothing.
I decline the call and turn toward him. “Mind if I tag along just a little while longer?” I ask, surprising even myself with the words.
His eyebrows lift slightly, and for the first time, I see something like curiosity in his expression. “You’re not going to the conference anymore?”
“I guess I just…changed my mind,” I say.
4
MIKHAIL
I’ve dealt with complicated people my whole life. Men who lie without blinking, women who see through every facade, allies who smile to your face while plotting your downfall. I’ve learned to read them all—study their tells, their weaknesses, their desires. And yet, here I am, sitting across from Lila Evans, utterly confounded by a woman who seems to be nothing butherself.
She’s so unguarded, so completely unpolished, that it’s disarming. It makes her dangerous in a way I can’t quite name. She doesn’t even realize the kind of power she has, the kind of hold she’s managed to take over me in just a few hours.
The way she talks is a constant shift between endearing nervousness and surprising boldness, like she’s caught between wanting to impress the world and refusing to care what it thinks of her.
And her eyes…those wide, expressive eyes that betray every thought, every emotion, no matter how much she tries to hide it. She looks at me like she’s trying to figure me out, trying to decideif she can trust me. If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t hesitate to run.
Which is why I can’t tell her. Not yet.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye as Torres drives us toward New York. She’s staring out the window, her lips parted slightly, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. A strand of hair has fallen loose, curling against her cheek, and I have the sudden, irrational urge to brush it back for her.
This woman…she’s derailing my plans without even realizing it. I was supposed to be in New York by now, focused on the meeting that’s waiting for me. My world doesn’t allow for distractions, doesn’t allow for softness. And yet, here I am, offering to drive her across states, introducing her to luxuries I wouldn’t normally think twice about, watching her laugh over fries like it’s the first time I’ve smiled in months.
She turns toward me suddenly, catching me watching her. I don’t look away, letting my smirk slide into place.
“What?” she asks, her tone defensive but tinged with curiosity.
“Nothing,” I say smoothly, leaning back in my seat. “You just seem…relaxed.”
Her brow furrows slightly, and she glances at her phone, which has been buzzing relentlessly since we left the Burger King. Randall’s name flashes on the screen again, but she doesn’t pick up.
“I’m ignoring him,” she says, almost to herself. “For the first time, I’m ignoring him.”
I feel a flicker of pride at that. It’s small, maybe insignificant, but it’s a step.
“Good,” I say, my tone firm. “He doesn’t deserve your attention.”
She looks at me, her lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “What if I change my mind later?”
I shrug, keeping my voice light. “Then you change your mind. But for now, enjoy the silence.”
Torres’s phone buzzes in the front seat, and I see his hand shift slightly as he checks the screen. A moment later, my own phone vibrates with a text. I pull it out and glance at the message.
Torres:Is it a good idea not to tell her who we are?
My jaw tightens slightly as I type back.
Me:Not now.
Our gazes meet briefly in the rearview mirror, and I see the silent question in his eyes. I give him a slight nod, and he returns his attention to the road.