Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
All of my safehouses are equipped with enough weapons to survive a major incident. I’m pleased to see that everything is well stocked. We can survive here for a long time, if need be. We can hole up and defend ourselves.
In the meantime, I put all of my men on notice. I don’t give them any details, I just let them know Grinkov is on a tear, and we need to be ready for any eventuality. It’s the closest I can do to getting them battle-ready without actually ringing the alarm. I just have to have to keep the faith that this is the right thing to do.
6
ANYA
Ispend the entire first day cataloging everything I possibly can. Various men come in and out of the house, and I watch from the window. Some bring groceries, some bring weapons, some bring suitcases. I take it we’re going to be having guests.
I know what it all means. He’s preparing for war. I can only imagine how Mikhail reacted when he found his men dead and me missing. He’s going to tear Brooklyn apart looking for me.
That’s why Viktor should have left well enough alone. I could be out of New York and halfway to another country by now if it weren’t for him.
That’s what I fantasize about when I finally lay down for the night. I imagine what would have happened if Viktor hadn’t forced me into his car. I would have hailed a taxi and made my way to JFK. I would have gone to every ATM along the way and withdrawn every cent from my bank account. Cash isn’t traceable.
Then, for good measure, I would have bought a fake plane ticket with my credit card. They’d probably see through it, but it might have at least slowed them down a bit. Mikhail and my father would end up chasing their tails for at least a couple of days.
I could disappear forever and he’d spend his entire life wondering what happened to me.
Instead, I’m only a few miles away. I still haven’t figured out which neighborhood we’re in, but anywhere in Brooklyn is way too close to be right now. He’s going to find me eventually. That isn’t a question or a fear. It is a fact. At least he’ll probably kill Viktor in the process. That’s a thought that brings me a certain level of joy.
The next morning, I decide to plan. I have to get the hell out of this house. My credit cards are almost definitely locked down now, so my original escape plan isn’t going to work, but I can improvise.
There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door and I open it to see one of the guards standing there.
“I’ve been asked to give you this,” he says, handing me one of the suitcases I saw being brought in last night.
I take it warily and slam the door in his face. I heave it up on the bed and open it, assessing the contents. Inside is a travel bag of toiletries and a handful of new clothes. They’re not nearly the kind of finery I’m used to, but I do relish the idea of getting out of the clothes I’ve been wearing since I arrived. It’s almost a nice gesture. Which gives me an idea.
I take a long shower and change into one of the outfits. It fits perfectly, which is a surprise.
I go downstairs to find Viktor sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of coffee. He looks up at me casually as I enter, but I’m not fooled. He’s probably been watching me on his security cameras since yesterday. I’m sure he saw me assessing the house. He isn’t stupid.
“How are the clothes?” he asks as a greeting.
“They’re perfect,” I answer sweetly. “Thank you so much for this, it was a really thoughtful gesture.”
I know I’m laying it on thick, but my biggest advantage here is that Viktor doesn’t know me. He’s seen me in an extremely stressful situation, and I can easily pretend that all the fussing was just my fight or flight kicking in. I can lure him into a false sense of who I am to trick him.
“You’re welcome,” he answers warily, narrowing his eyes at me. So, maybe I can’t completely trick him. I force myself to pull back the charm a little.
“I saw the groceries being brought in yesterday,” I say, changing the subject. “Did you happen to get any creamer? I can’t take my coffee black.”
“There’s half and half in the fridge,” he replies, still studying me. “I just got basics. I had no idea what you liked.”
“That’s okay.” I nod. “Of course, you could have just asked. Contrary to what you’ve seen, I don’t bite.”
He laughs loudly at this. “You just kick, punch, and scratch,” he shoots back. “And, occasionally, try to stab.”