I turn to face him fully. "Keep watching Katya. I want to know everyone she talks to, everything she says. And double the security on Lena. She's already connected Lena to the Orlov family, and even though I canceled the hit on her, Katya could find a way to use it."
"Already done." He claps me on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, I think you made the right choice. Bringing her here. Claiming her publicly. It's bold."
The party continues for another two hours. Champagne flows, the string quartet plays, and I play the role of gracious host while my mind catalogs every suspicious glance, every whispered conversation, every moment that feels slightly off.
By the time the last guests filter out, my head is pounding.
Lena leans against me as we watch the final car pull away, her body warm and soft against my side. "That was exhausting."
"You did well." I press a kiss to her temple, breathing in the scent of her perfume and Lena's own unique sweet scent.
"I felt like I was walking through a minefield in heels." She looks up at me, and in the dim light from the foyer, her eyes are almost black. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes and no." I guide her inside, my hand on the small of her back. "I found suspects. Too many of them."
"How many?"
I close the door and engage the locks, the sound of metal sliding into place somehow ominous in the quiet house. My mind runs through the evening, cataloging every moment that raised red flags.
"At least five." The number sits in my chest like a stone. "At least five people in the room tonight want me dead."
41
LENA
The house finally falls silent around two in the morning, the last of the staff finishing cleanup and disappearing to wherever they go when they're not polishing marble or arranging flowers. My feet ache from hours in heels, and my face hurts from smiling at people who could probably kill me without breaking a sweat. And probably would, given half a chance.
I kick off the torture devices masquerading as shoes and pad barefoot down the hallway toward the kitchen. Sleep won't come, not with my mind replaying everything from tonight. It was my first time putting together a party like that, and I have to say I'm proud of how it turned out. Ironic, though, that it was a party for mobsters.
The kitchen is blessedly empty and quiet. I find a small pot and pour milk into it, setting it on the stove to warm. My mother used to make this for me when I couldn't sleep as a child, back when my biggest worry was a math test or whether the boy I liked would notice me at lunch.
Back when I was just Lena, not Maya, not a woman with a price on her head and a baby growing inside her that no one can know about.
The milk starts to steam, and I'm pouring it into a mug when footsteps make me turn. Danil fills the doorway, still in his suit pants and white shirt, though he's lost the jacket and tie. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing the full sleeve tattoo on his right arm.
"Can't sleep either?" His voice is rough with exhaustion.
"Too much adrenaline." I gesture to the stove. "Want some? It's an old remedy my mom used to make."
"Sure." He moves into the kitchen with surprising grace for a man his size, pulling out a chair at the small breakfast table. "Your mother sounds like a wise woman."
"She was." I pour another mug and join him at the table. "Is. I mean, I assume she still is. I don't actually know."
The admission hangs between us, heavy and sad. Danil takes a sip of the warm milk, his dark eyes studying me over the rim.
"You want to know about your parents," he says. It's not a question.
"I want to know if they're alive." My hands wrap around the mug, seeking warmth that has nothing to do with temperature. "If they're safe. If they…" I pause, the words catching in my throat. "If they think I'm dead."
Danil sets down his mug carefully. "Last I heard, they were fine. Living in the same place."
Relief crashes over me so intense, it makes my eyes sting. "They're okay. They're really okay."
"As far as I know." He leans back in his chair, and the wood creaks under his weight. "Aleksandr never went after them. The hit was only on you, and when you disappeared, he didn't turn it on them."
"Until now." I take a sip of milk, letting it coat my throat. "Now that I'm here, with him, does that put them in danger again?"
"No." His voice is firm, certain. "Aleksandr called off the hit. Officially. It's done. It just takes some time to make sure everyone got the message."