Yaroslava's POV
Jan was silent all the way to the restaurant, where Grigoriev was waiting for us. This made me even more nervous. And when we arrived at the place and I realized that we were going to eat without witnesses, I almost fainted.
The place was not ordinary. Antique brickwork, three kinds of stone floors, doors with arched portals-all along narrow corridors lit by floor lamps, and instead of a common room for customers, there were separate private rooms.
Shit!
