Chapter Twenty-Three
PRESENT DAY, LOCATION UNKNOWN
“You shouldn’t have run,” Alexei says as a gust of wind brings a cool spray of ocean water to the table. Or maybe it’s the beginnings of rain. The waves are intensifying further, the yacht rocking harder. A zigzag of lightning bisects the rapidly darkening sky, followed by a bone-rattling boom of thunder. Soon, it’ll be too dangerous to sit here. I, however, am far more afraid of what awaits me below the deck, in the bedroom Alexei intends for us to share. I interlace my hands on the table to steady them as he continues. “We could’ve had this meal in a nice restaurant in Moscow.”
And with a lot less blood spilled. He doesn’t say that, but he doesn’t have to.
“What were you planning to do?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice calm as
