Chapter 13
1023 Words
ISABELLA POV — LATER THAT DAY
The café is quiet in the mid-afternoon lull. I am wiping down the tables when the door opened, bringing with it a gust of Mediterranean air and four men in expensive suits.
My heart stops coldly.
Russian men. I could tell by their bearing, their clothes, and the way they moved with casual authority. They are too well-dressed for tourists and too alert to be harmless.
Oh God. Sokolov's men had found me again.
I keep my head down, and tighten my hand on the rag. Maybe if I don't look at them, if I just kept working...
"Izvinite," one of them said in Russian. Excuse me.
I looked up slowly, my pulse pounding in my ears.
But they weren't looking at me. They were looking at Mrs. Kovač, who'd emerged from the kitchen.
"We're looking for someone," the man continued in accented English. "A young woman. She is nineteen, with dark hair and gray eyes. She might be using the name Elena."
My blood turns into ice immediately.
Mrs. Kovač's expression didn't change. "Many Elena's in Montenegro. Very common name."
"This one is Russian. She speaks with a Moscow accent but studies in America. He pulled out a photo... sneaking a glance at it, it is a picture of me from before, taken at some Konstantin family function. I looked different in it...happier, better fed, wearing designer clothes.
Nothing like the pale, exhausted girl I am now.
"Have you seen her?" the man pressed.
Mrs. Kovač studied the photo for a long moment. My heart hammered so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
Please don't recognize me. Please don't...
"No," she said finally, handing back the photo. "I have not seen this girl. Sorry I cannot help."
The man's eyes swept the café, passing over me without pause. I keep wiping the table, with mechanical movements, trying not to shake or give up myself.
"If you do see her, call this number." He handed Mrs. Kovač a card. "There's a reward for information leading to her location." "Of course." She pocketed the card smoothly. "I keep my eyes open."
The men left as quickly as they'd arrived, the door chiming behind them.
I waited until I heard their car pull away before I let out the breath I'd been holding. My legs almost gave out, and I grabbed the table for support.
"They're gone," Mrs. Kovač said quietly. "You okay?"
"You knew." My voice shook. "You knew it was me they were looking for."
She shrugged. "The girl in the photo wears expensive dress, has professional makeup. You wear my old apron and look like strong wind could knock you over. Not same girl at all."
"Why didn't you...they offer a reward..."
"You think I sell out pregnant girl to Russian men?" She made that disgusted sound again. "I tell you, I have five children. I know what it's like to be scared and alone." She comes closer to me, her expression serious. "But draga, those men will keep looking. You understand? If they come back with better picture, or if someone else recognizes you..."
"I know." I sank into the nearest chair, my whole body shaking with delayed fear. "I need to leave. Find somewhere else to hide."
"Or you need better protection than hiding." Mrs. Kovač sat across from me. "These men, they work for someone important, yes? Someone powerful?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"And the baby's father? He is also powerful man?"
Another nod.
"Then maybe you tell him. Maybe he helps..."
"No." The word comes out sharply. "He can't know. He doesn't want me or the baby. Telling him would just make everything worse."
"You're a child playing dress-up. Physical release. Nothing more."
Viktor's words still echoed in my head, a constant reminder of exactly how little I'd meant to him.
"Okay." Mrs. Kovač held up her hands. "No father. But draga, you cannot keep running forever. Not with baby coming. You need plan."
She is right. I know she is right. But what plan could possibly work?
I am pregnant and alone, while being hunted by one of the most dangerous men in the Russian underworld. Every day I stayed in one place was a risk. Every person I trust is a potential liability.
But I can't keep running. Not forever. Eventually, I'd run out of money, or luck, or both.
"I don't know what to do," I admitted, my hand going to my stomach again. "I don't know how to keep us safe."
Mrs. Kovač is quiet for a moment, then stands up decisively. "First, you finish your shift. Then you come home with me... I have room above my house, separate entrance. You stay there tonight, we think better tomorrow."
"I can't ask you to..."
"You don't ask. I offer." She patted my shoulder. "Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, we make plan. Okay?"
I nodded, too grateful and too exhausted to argue.
At night, I lay in the small room above Mrs. Kovač's house, with my hand on my stomach, and tried to figure out what the hell I am going to do.
I am six weeks pregnant, at the same time I'm being hunted. I have no real identity, limited money and absolutely no support system except a kind café owner who'd already risked enough by hiding me.
It is impossible.
But I'd survived this long. Survived Viktor's rejection, the jump between buildings, and Sokolov's men finding me the first time.
I can survive this too.
I had to. I must.
For the baby.
"We're going to be okay," I whispered to my stomach. "I promise. I'll figure something out. I'll keep you safe."
Even if I had no idea how.
Even if every day feels like borrowed time, and I am terrified that, eventually, my luck will run out.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, with one hand protectively covering the tiny life growing inside me.
The only good thing I had left from the worst night of my life and possibly the worst period of my life.
- Writer
