I heard the words on the other end, heard the strain in her voice.

My whole world suddenly just crashed around me. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Then my training kicked in.

I logged into my laptop, triangulated her call until I knew approximately where she’d been at the time of the call and where she must be going. I assumed she’d taken one of my cars, and I silently seethed that one of my drivers had done this. Who had betrayed me in such a fashion?

I jogged down the stairs to the basement ramp and found my car. I peeled out of the lot, stalking them at ninety miles per hour on the interstate. Whoever had her, he’d never get away with this.

The dots on my phone’s map, echoed on the screen in the dashboard, edged closer together slowly. I knew I was catching up, but the panic in me made me feel as though I was practically walking instead of speeding in an expensive car.

I caught up with them just as they were turning off, breathing a sigh of relief. At least I had my eye on the car, now. That was something—for now, but not for long. I needed to see Anya. And I needed to kick the shit out of whoever was behind the wheel.

They pulled off onto a deserted highway until we got to a trailer in the middle of nowhere. I tailed them carefully, with my headlights off, driving a steady distance behind so they wouldn’t see me coming. I wished I had a way of getting Anya a message but didn’t want to risk that her phone was on and the driver would hear it ding.

Finally, they parked. I caught the gleam of her hair in the security floodlight as a tall man with a crew cut tugged her along the driveway. My heart stopped, then started again as he pulled her toward on their way to the trailer. I floored it, pulling in just before they reached the door.

I got out, my gun trained on the driver.

“Let her go.”

Looking irritated but not nearly fucking scared enough, he paused but didn’t release her. “I can’t. She’s my ticket out of here.”

“I can get you whatever you need. You don’t need to harm her.” I assured the man that I could get him out, and I would. I didn’t even really care what his deal was. I would do anything to save her.

“You don’t understand,” the man shouted, his grip tightening on Anya. “I can’t just leave. Now the government and the mafia are after me. She’s the only one that can save me at this point. I’ll give her to the agency that will protect me the most. I’ll be free.”

Okay, now I cared what his deal was, and his deal was done.

I closed one eye, and shot without a second breath. I heard Anya scream as he went down. I rushed to her side, grabbing her before she could faint. “Anya, it’s over. You’re safe.”

“B-But, he’s….” She was stammering, shaking.

“Go wait in the car. I’ll take care of this.”

She walked shakily over to my car and got in, looking away from the window as I took care of the scene and made it look like a suicide.

I’d done it before, but now I felt truly dirty as I covered up my crime. Overcome by nausea, I felt a cold sheen of sweat on my body. Fuck. I was getting too old for this. For the first time I felt tainted, as though Anya had gifted me with some of her purity. All I had to give her in exchange was a dubious past and an uncertain future.

By the time I got back into the vehicle, she was going into shock. I drove as fast as I could to get her home and away from all of this.

Things might not be the same for us after this. It was one thing to understand that I was in the mafia, but quite another to witness a killing in cold blood and watch me do my job—the job I’d been trained to do. Before, I could argue that I’d killed, but that I wasn’t a killer. It didn’t define me. But now I reeled from the stain of it on my soul.

As soon as I found a gas station, I went in and got her a cup of hot, strong, sugary tea. She was no longer shaking, but she was still pale. My black leather jacket was spread over her lap, and her fingers twisted the zipper nervously.

“Dobryj dyen.”

Her shy thanks reminded me of our first meeting, at the airport. Had she known what she knew now, perhaps she would have run the other way. Maybe she still should. For myself, I was both hopelessly in love with her and hopelessly no good for her.

“Vitayo.” My voice was gruff, almost hoarse.

“This reminds me of home,” she said after a few more sips.

I simply nodded.

“Thank you, Viktor. You are good to me.”

At that, I nearly ran us off the road. “What?” I shot her an incredulous look. “I just killed a man!”

“For me. You killed him for me. I knew you’d come for me.”

Her confidence in me made my heart swell so big it felt as though my ribs would crack from the pressure. “I killed him for me, printsessa. I’m not a hero.”

“I don’t agree.” Carefully, she placed her cup in the console.

We would not come to terms on this point. It was pointless to argue further. “Anya, don’t you realize how lucky you were?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Her voice wavered, and when I looked over her eyes were filling with tears. Hands shaking again. “He was your driver, how was I supposed to know?”

That was what infuriated me the most. He’d worked for me, or worked for someone who worked for me. Either way, I was ultimately responsible for what happened—or almost happened—to my wife. “You couldn’t have known,” I assured her.

“But I did.” Her voice was so soft, I almost didn’t hear it.

I froze. “What are you talking about?”

“I think he was a federal agent. He talked to me before, asking if I was being kept against my will. He offered to help me.”

Dear god in heaven. “Before? Before today?” And she hadn’t told me?

I glanced over to see her tentative nod. The remainder of her tea splashed on the gearshift as I suddenly veered off the road onto the shoulder.

“Viktor!”

With a click and a thunk, I was out of the car and throwing up on the side of the turnpike. I bent over, my hands on my thighs.

Unmanned.