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“Lena—”

“I’m fine,” she says too fast.

Before I can answer, she turns, smile sharp and brittle.

“Tell Viktor thank you for tonight. The security. The cover story.”

“Of course.”

She leaves before I can say anything else.

And I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the door clicks shut.

Because I know that look. I wore it once.

And I know what happens when a girl looks at a Bratva soldier like he’s the only person who’s ever seen her.

It doesn’t end quietly.

It ends in blood and vows.

And if I’m not mistaken…

It’s already begun…

The End