BELLA'S POV
The two weeks before going to New York are the quietest I've had in months.
It is not quiet in the empty, fearful way of Montenegro where silence meant danger might be approaching and stillness felt like holding breath. This is different. The compound hums with steady activity, the guards rotate on schedule, while Alexei runs everything with his usual precision.
But inside that usual structure, something has loosened.
Viktor and I fall into a rhythm that surprises me with how natural it feels. We have breakfast together most mornings...sometimes in the dining room, sometimes in the kitchen where I've started cooking again simply because it grounds me. He brings reports to the table and I steal his coffee and we talk about things that have nothing to do with Sokolov or secur
