“Nope, it’s totally Nate. Don’t you dare choose anyone but Nate.”
I take a sip of my water to soothe the dryness in my throat and say the exact opposite of what I’m thinking, “I’ll go with Nathaniel. He’s more experienced and level-headed.”
Gwen slaps both her palms on the table. “Thank you!”
“You have terrible taste in lawyers, Jane.” Chris side-eyes me. “Both of you will eat your words when he wins Bell versus Bell.”
Gwen flips her hair back. “That’s if he wins. I heard Mathew Bell is backed by the mafia.”
I choke on my water and it snorts through my nose and splatters all over my lap.
“Jesus, Jane. Are you okay?” Chris offers me a napkin, but I’m unable to focus on it, because all I can hear are Gwen’s words.
“T-the…the what?” I stare at her with what must look like an expression from a scene in a horror movie.
“The mafia.”
“Which mafia, Gwen?” My voice is all choked up like my insides.
“Russian, I think? I don’t know for sure. I overheard Nate talking about it with Aspen the other day, not that I’m spying on them or anything. I swear I was just passing by, and fine, maybe I stayed on purpose to hear what they talk about when they’re together, but it’s not like I had any ill intention or anything. I swear on my sacred vanilla.”
Gwen’s hyper speech dims to the background and something much more nefarious pops to the surface. I think I’m going to throw up.
Or maybe choke.
Or faint.
And I can’t do that in front of Gwen and Chris or they’ll find out I’m broken. So I stand up as slowly as possible, because if I do it faster, I’m definitely going to end up on the floor.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper and turn around, heading to the bathroom.
That lady is watching me again. She has her eyes on me and it’s more intense now, more focused.
She knows me.
She knows exactly who I am, despite the glasses and the disguise and everything, and she’ll tell them. She’ll say she saw me here, that she found me, and they’ll come for me—
Stop.
You need to stop.
I suck in deep inhales of oxygen and head to the bathroom. Removing the glasses, I place them in my pocket and splash a copious amount of water on my face.
“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. “They can’t find you.”
It takes me a few seconds to be able to control my breathing before I go out, slipping my glasses back on.
I slam into someone and wince.
“Watch where you’re going.”
I freeze.
Was that an accent I just heard with that voice? The same voice I’m familiar with?
Slowly, too slowly, I peek at the person I slammed into. He’s tall, broad, and wears glasses. They’re not as thick as mine and they make him look smart, camouflaging his true dangerous nature.
Kirill.
A pirate.
One of them, anyway. And he’s so powerful and cunning that no one dares to cross his path.
He’s judging me now with his light eyes that are covered by the glasses, and for a moment, I think it’s over.
For a moment, I think he’ll reach out, pluck off my fake glasses, poke out my contact lenses, and drag me back by my hair.
A man steps in front of him. He’s scrawnier, shorter, and has feminine looks, but he never fooled me. Behind that appearance hides one of the most lethal human weapons. Aleksander. Another pirate whose purpose is to guard Kirill.
He’s the one who told me to watch where I’m going, and he’s also the one who’s glaring down at me.
I’m under both their scrutiny now and I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.
I wish I’d stayed in the bathroom.
I wish I’d never come here.
Hell, at this moment, I wish I was never born.
“What are you looking at?” Aleksander asks in his not-so-deep yet threatening voice.
I can’t stop staring at them, can’t stop the shaking, the heart pounding. All of it.
This is a meltdown, isn’t it? I’m going to have it in front of them and destroy everything.
“This little insolent piece of shit…” Aleksander reaches out for me and I can see it, his hand, the violence it promises, but I can’t move. I’m unable to.
And then he’s grabbing me by the collar and lifting me up. My feet leave the ground and my throat closes with his savage grip, blocking my air.
My nails find his arm in a desperate attempt to peel him off me, but that only manages to make him tighten his choke-hold on me, bringing tears to my eyes.
Shit.
Shit.
I stare at Kirill, who’s right beside him, watching the scene without moving a muscle. As if he’s bored and his guard is providing him his daily dose of entertainment.
Aleksander shakes me so that my attention slides back to him. “You don’t look at him, you don’t cross his path. You apologize for disturbing him, or I will bury you where no one can find you.”
I’m about to call their names, to beg, but I don’t. If I do, for what purpose did I come this far? Why am I here?
Something moves in my peripheral vision and then Aleksander is forced to let me go.
I’m on the ground again, a strong hand holding me by the shoulder, and warmth I haven’t been able to forget surrounds me.
My eyes sting and my lungs burn with the unhealthy amount of air I’ve inhaled in such a short time. But none of that matters, because all I can focus on is the man standing beside me.
The man who’s turned my life upside down so many times but still holds it in balance.
“I have the entire scene recorded, so prepare to pay a hefty settlement when she sues for assault.”
I stare up at him, at Knox, the man who’s not even supposed to be here, but he’s holding me by the shoulders and speaking on my behalf.
And just like that, the tears I held in for so long gather in my lids.
“Knox?” I whisper.
“Don’t worry, beautiful.” He winks down at me. “I’ll protect you.”
14
KNOX
I’ve had people look at me in different ways.
Some have pitied me, others have had expectations of me, and even those closest to me, such as my family, have had questions in their eyes about me. Sometimes it’s worry. Other times, curiosity.
But no one has ever looked at me the way Anastasia is right now. As if she were falling down a bottomless well and I pulled her out.
As if she were choking and I gave her back her air.
She’s wheezing, a full-body shudder gripping her. Her shoulders tremble beneath my hand and her lips are twitching. I don’t have to see the look in her eyes beneath the glasses to know she’s falling into a loop.
That she’s out of her element and way out of her comfort zone.
When Christoph mentioned that he’d be having lunch at this restaurant, I guessed that he’d be accompanied by Gwen and Anastasia—or Jane, as they know her. The three of them have become close over the last couple of weeks, almost inseparable.
So whenever I want information about her, all I have to do is drop ambiguous questions to Christoph and he happily answers them all. Though I’m a bit annoyed that she spends more time with him than me.
Fine, not annoyed. It’s way more than that.
The game Anastasia and I started to play was supposed to make me get over her, remove her from my system and allow me to finally move on, but it’s only made the fire burn hotter, stronger.
Instead of purging her, I’ve been engraving her in, searching for every moment I can catch a glimpse of her. Even if she’s only passing by.
It’s that unhealthy obsession again, the lack of control I’ve been fighting all my life.
And I did plan to continue fighting it, to reject it and keep this fucked-up fixation under wraps.
But that was before.
Before I stepped into the restaurant and saw her heading to the bathroom, only for her to take a long time to come out.