He wore an expensive tailored suit that was fitted to his body.Beneath the collar, black ink curled up his neck like ivy.More ink peered from his folded cuffs.
Bratva was the first word that came to mind.That was right.The Volkov Bratva secretly controlled the city, even though four other crime families had called this city home.
She’d seen this man on TV once, standing right next to the mayor.At the moment, she couldn’t recall his name.It finally occurred to her she had just walked into something she shouldn’t have.
He didn’t look surprised to see her.That was the worst part.To him, was she only an unexpected anomaly he needed to erase?Her throat tightened.Talk, plead, say something to convince him she wasn’t a threat.
“I’m here for a delivery,” she blurted out.A moment later, she felt incredibly foolish.
His gaze dropped briefly to the courier bag she was clutching tightly, then back to her face.
His clinical stare was assessing, measuring.She swallowed.Was he thinking how he should dispose of her?She could turn, make a run for it, but he had a gun.It was clear from the holes in the body he knew how to use it.
“You are early,” he said.
He didn’t raise his voice, he simply checked his watch, like her presence there was inconveniencing him.
Her throat tightened.
“I think there’s been a mistake,” she said quickly, too quickly, words tripping over each other like they were trying to escape first.“I was told, I was supposed to...”
Her voice collapsed halfway through the sentence, because her eyes had drifted again, back to the body.She hadn’t imagined it—it was still there.
For a split second, her mind betrayed her.She saw herself lying there next to the dead man.She blinked hard, and told herself not to go there.However, her imagination kept going.
Cassie’s face surfaced first.That soft, guilty panic when she saw her last night.The way her mouth opened like she wanted to fix it but didn’t know how to undo what she had already chosen.
Would she wonder?Would she think about her after a week?After a month?
She left, moved, disappeared.That was what Cassie would probably think.Then there was Liam.Would he notice when she didn’t come back for her things?Would he assume she’d changed her number?
Her chest tightened painfully.
Worse than all of that, who would even know she was gone in a way that mattered?Her savings were thin.She doubted the law firm she worked for would bother paying for her funeral or burial.
She swallowed hard, trying to force air into her lungs.No one would even know how she ended up here.
Her fingers tightened around the courier bag strap until it bit into her palm.The pain was grounding.She tried to stop her mind from spiraling, but it wasn’t working.
She could feel the edge of something sharp inside her, not quite panic, not quite collapse.Something closer to resignation trying to disguise itself as practicality.She was not important enough to be missed.
That was the thought that stuck.Her eyes flicked back to the man standing in the room.He hadn’t moved.He was just watching her like a wolf observing its prey.
She forced herself to speak again, because what else could she do?
“Who are you?”Her voice came out rougher now, smaller, but steadier.
“I need to know your name,” she added quickly, because her brain had latched onto the idea like a drowning person grabbing driftwood.“If this is some kind of mistake, I can explain.I can call my supervisor, I just—”
She trailed off, her tank suddenly empty.He watched her through it all without blinking.
“Maksim,” he finally said.
She nodded once, because her body didn’t know what else to do with information that didn’t help her survive.
“Maksim,” she said aloud, as if saying it back might turn it into something manageable.“Okay.Maksim.My name is Lena.I’m only a courier.I was told to deliver documents to Mr.Voss.That’s all I’m doing.I didn’t see anything.I won’t say anything.I can leave.Please let me leave.”
She knew she was asking the impossible.She had seen everything after all, even if she didn’t understand it yet.Her gaze drifted again, traitorous, back to the body.