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You need to leave, Anissa. Now. You’re in danger.

I hesitate.What? He doesn’t send warnings without reason.

Who? What are you talking about? Is it Interpol?

Cillina

No, thought it was, but they’ve got bigger fish to fry. Looks like it’s someone within

What the fuck is he talking about? The Irish aren’t the ones coming for me, the law isn’t?—

Cillian

You need to leave

I check my surroundings again. Matvei isn’t here, and I know he’s getting revenge. For me. He doesn’t need me to approve it; he’s doing it because that’s who he is.

I dial his number, and to my surprise, he answers right away. He’s breathing heavily into the phone.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, but I got—I got a text from O’Rourke," I tell him.

"What’s he saying?" He grunts into the phone.

"He told me that I’m in trouble and that I have to run. He says there’s someone in the family, Matvei."

"That’s impossible. Fucking O’Rourke. We’ve all taken oaths to each other. It couldn’t be. Stay there. I’m coming back for you soon."

"Are you sure?" I ask, feeling strangely uneasy.

"I’m sure. I want you to go to our bedroom and lock it from the inside. Do you understand me?"

I nod, even though he can’t see me. "Yeah. You said you have guards here, that it’s safe."

"It is. My house is a fortress. But I want to be able to find you right away when I get back, alright?"

"Okay."

Matvei exhales sharply. "Stay strong, love.."

My heart thumps in my chest.

I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him that I will be here when he comes back, but the urge to run is so damn strong…

I pace his room and try to occupy myself. His tablet. I’ll work on the disguise that I promised I’d get Rafail. I grab the tablet to work on it when I remember—I never finished watching that video of him with his brother.

Do I really need to see that?

I know he was the one who took his brother’s life in the end, that he was forced to. I know all that, but I wonder now… Why do I have to watch it? Why can’t I get it out of my mind?

I need to know.I need to know what forged him into the man he is today.

Now is as good a time as any. He’s not here.

So I climb into the bed with my back against the wall. I turn on the tablet, my hands shaking. I hit play and fast-forward halfway to where I left off before.

My hands are clammy. I feel nauseous. I don’t want to see this; I really don’t.