Alessia
What. The Actual. f**k?
Why is Vlad’s ex here, leading me to the kitchen?
I’m uneasy as hell. I don’t like being separated from Vlad, especially because I know he was uncomfortable about this meeting. I was kept out of mafia business, but I know enough to know that murder and double-crosses happen all the time.
There’s a chance Vlad’s about to be killed.
Or I am.
And I sure as hell don’t trust Sabina or her fake syrupy politeness. She leads me into a lavish kitchen and makes me a cup of instant coffee in the microwave.
Disgusting.
Seriously, Russians need to learn about espresso machines. Today.
I sit at the breakfast bar and pretend to sip it.
She sits beside me, too close. I try to scoot away, and then I realize she’s not elbowing me, she’s trying to pass me something.
