Her gaze drops to the newspaper on the floor, and she squints at it as if she's never seen it before. Maybe she hasn't. Even if shehad, the image of me is too distorted for her to have recognized me.
Her eyes widen as recognition dawns on her. Her eyes jump back to my face and go wide, her face paling dramatically.
Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
"You remember."
29
LENA
No!That's my first thought.
"You remember," I say, my tone flat.
His gold eyes lock onto mine, and I watch it happen. The exact moment when the fog lifts. When confusion transforms into recognition. His jaw tightens. His shoulders straighten. The gentle slope of his posture hardens into something predatory.
This isn't Sasha looking at me anymore.
This is Aleksandr Romanov, the Bratva Pakhan. The ruthless killer.
I see it in the way his eyes go flat and cold. I see it in how his hand flexes at his side, muscle memory of a man accustomed to violence. The warmth that's been there for weeks, the softness he showed me in bed, in the kitchen, in stolen moments by the fire, it all drains away like someone pulled a plug.
He knows who he is.
He knows what he ordered.
He knows I'm the woman he marked for death.
My stomach lurches. Three years. Three years of running, hiding, changing my name, building a life in the middle of nowhere, and then falling in love with a man I thought was safe because he didn't remember being dangerous. And now those gold eyes are sharp and calculating, assessing me the way a predator assesses prey.
I don't think. Don't hesitate. My body moves on pure survival instinct, even as my heart is breaking. I spin and run for my bedroom, my bare feet slapping against the cold wooden floor.
Behind me, I hear him move. Not running. Not chasing. Just the deliberate sound of footsteps that know exactly where I'm going and how long it will take me to get there.
My emergency bag is hidden in the back of my closet, behind the winter coats. I've kept it packed for three years, always ready, always prepared for the moment I might need to disappear again. Cash, fake ID, burner phone, clean clothes. Everything I need to vanish.
My hands shake as I yank coats aside, reaching for the duffel bag that represents my escape plan. My fingers close around the strap just as his voice cuts through the darkness.
"Lena."
My real name in his mouth makes me freeze. Not Maya.Lena. He knows. He remembers everything.
"Don't." My voice comes out strangled. "Don't come any closer." I'm still wearing my night clothes, but I don't have time to change. I quickly step into the snow boots I left by the door and jerk on my jacket.
"I'm not going to hurt you." His tone is measured, controlled. The voice of a man used to commanding rooms full of dangerous people. "Put down the bag."
"Fuck you." I hoist the duffel over my shoulder and turn to face him. He's standing in the bedroom doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. I glance over to the couch where Danil was sleeping. He's sitting up now, looking casual when I know he's anything but. His eyes switch between me and Sasha.Aleksandr!
Aleksander leans against the doorframe, and the casual posture is somehow more threatening than if he'd pulled a gun. "We need to talk."
I turn and yank the door open and then I'm running. Or trying to. It's dark and the snow is deep, making it hard to move through. I don't even notice the cold, though, as I start running, my only thought to get away from him. Away from Sasha who has become Aleksandr.
My legs pump through the snow, each step sinking almost to my knees. The duffel bag bounces against my hip. The tree line is maybe fifty yards away. If I can just make it to the trees, I can disappear into the forest, follow the trails I've memorized over the past three years.
I'm halfway there when I hear him behind me. Not running. He is walking—and catching up with me! I should have taken Pavel up on his offer and stayed with him. How could I have been so stupid?
"Maya. Stop." This time, he uses the name I'd given, but I don't like hearing him say it now. Maya and Sasha are different peoplewith a different life. I'm Lena and he's Aleksandr. I'm the victim, and he's the predator.