I know the tells in a person who is lying, and I also know what to look for when someone is genuinely grasping at straws—Autumn is the second.

She stares forward, biting her lip and thinking hard while my fingers run through her hair. She has been so strong to be able to keep herself together this long. I want to let her relax and recover, but time is of the essence.

Still, pushing someone too hard after a stressful and intense day can be worse than no answer at all. Added stress like this can make the imagination come up with false information just to get the situation over with, and I obviously can’t have that.

I start pouring water over her hair and rinsing it out before doing the same with conditioner. As the soft substance starts making her hair light and smooth in the warm water, I whisper to her in a husky tone.

“It is okay. You have been through more excitement in one day than a lot of people have in their entire lives.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I… I honestly can’t think of anything.”

“Then put it aside for now, no need to, how do you say, spin your wheels in mud.”

I finish conditioning her hair, and I run my hands over her body, pulling her closer to me and kissing her on the cheek. She smiles at me, but there is sadness written all over her face. She feels bad for disappointing me—rather, for thinking that she has. She would have to do a lot to be able to disappoint me.

“Here,” I say, standing up and bringing a towel over to set on the side of the tub. “Take your time, but dry off with this when you are good and satisfied with your bath. You have earned it, many times over. I could not have asked for a better partner out there. When you’ve finished in here, meet me on the deck. I have a surprise for you.”

“A… are you serious?” she almost laughs, turning to look up at me.

“I have been called a serious man before, yes,” I say fondly as I stroke her wet hair. I plant one more kiss on her lips and stroke her cheek, smiling. “Enjoy your bath, and remember—take your time. We have a few days ahead of us. Us taking a breather will not make this yacht go any slower or faster.”

“Thanks… Daddy,” she adds in a teasing tone, smirking up at me.

I chuckle, and I make my way out of the bathroom to head for the kitchens.

I don’t have much time, so I move quickly. For once, doing so is not a matter of life and death, even though I’m still riding the high from the adrenaline rush earlier. The kitchen in the yacht is pristine, and thanks to the ingredients I’ve acquired, I have everything I need to make a fine beef stroganoff. It might not be the finest dining experience in the world, but it is a hot, home-cooked meal that I know how to make well.

It’s damn good comfort food after a long and exciting night, too.

Within minutes, the kitchen is abuzz and filled with the smell of delicious, hearty food. I keep checking outside, but I’m grateful to see that Autumn does not seem to have any trouble taking her time in the bath. Besides, I left a little something for her where she could find it when she gets out.

Once the food is done cooking, the hearty aroma is wafting out through the door. I can smell it ahead of me when I come out onto the deck with two plates piled high, heading toward the table I’ve set up with a beautiful view of the moonlit sky and sea all around us. And waiting for me out there on one of the chairs is a blushing Autumn, who smiles at me warmly.

“Ah, I was just a few moments too late,” I chuckle as I carry the food over to her. “And I see you found the first of my presents.”

Autumn is clad in an absolutely stunning black dress I picked out for her. It’s a touch more frilly than what she came here in, but I wanted to get her more than just the basics, I have a feeling she will like it. The lace and ribbons on it look like they would be more at home with bright pink or yellow pastels colors, but the black gives it all a very strong yet beautiful edge that I was captivated with when I saw it in the store.

She stands up, waits for me to set the food down, and throws her arms around me.

“It’s wonderful,” she says into my chest as I stroke her freshly blow-dried hair and breathe in the scent of the shampoo I massaged into her earlier. “Thank you.”

“I am sorry our time in Greece got cut short so brutally,” I say as I pull the chair out for her and sit her down. There’s a bottle of wine on the table for us, and I uncork it to serve. “I did not have much time to shop, but I picked out a few nice things for you.”

“Plural?” she asks, surprised.

“Da.”

I reach under the table and take out the bags I have tucked under there, and one by one, hand them to Autumn and watch her open them. She’s almost embarrassed, blushing and trying not to smile too much while she sees the expensive perfume and the necklace. I can’t help but smile as I watch her, and for the moment, I feel a remarkable sense of ease. It feels good to shower her in gifts and watch how much she likes it.

“These are amazing, Vladimir,” she says, holding up the bottles of perfume to the faint moonlight. “I’ve never even heard of these brands!”

“They’re quite popular in Paris, but I do not think they have made it to the States yet,” I say, and then I notice the dinner getting cold. “Ah, but I have been impatient—let’s wait until after dinner to try them on, da?”

We dig in, and the sigh of delight I hear from her at the first bite fills me with pride.

“I am glad you like stroganoff,” I chuckle.

“Who doesn’t?” she gushes. “I can’t remember the last time I had any that tasted this good. Is this what you were shopping for in Mykonos?”

“Among a lot of other things,” I chuckle. “If we are going to be on the run, we might as well live like it. I…” I trail off and try to change my mind about what I was about to say, but Autumn tilts her head to the side expectantly. “This might sound strange to say, but it is nice to be able to provide for someone like this.”

Autumn blushes, and she looks genuinely touched by the sentiment.

“It’s nice to be provided for,” she says lightheartedly at first, then drops into a more thoughtful tone. “I think I know the feeling you’re talking about. When you go without a stable family your whole life, it gets…lonely.”

I nod, and she takes a quick drink of wine before speaking again.

“Do you have any siblings?”

I finish my bite and tilt my head back and forth, frowning.

“Not anymore. It… is not a great conversation for a romantic dinner, but she died along with my parents.”

Her eyes widen, and she nods softly, silently urging me to go on. If it weren’t a matter so close to home, I would have laughed. Of course Autumn would see no problem talking about our dead families over a romantic, moonlit date.

“I never told you how they passed. I wish I could say it is a memory I push away, but I keep it close to me, reminding myself of it every night.” I take a bite of stroganoff, almost aggressive, and I wash it down with a long drink of wine. “I was sixteen. A stupid boy. I snuck out of our little hovel one night to go drink bootleg vodka with some friends. We were hooligans, beating each other up to see how tough we were, going shirtless in the dead of winter, that kind of thing. I stumbled back home at dawn, expecting to get an earful from my papa.”

I dab my mouth with my napkin thoughtfully while Autumn watches me with rapt attention.

“Instead, I found my house riddled with bullet holes. They… they fought to the bitter end, it looked like. Nobody had even thought to call the police. They were too afraid. That is what tipped me off that the mafia was responsible—the bratva.”

“Oh my god,” she murmurs. “Did you go to the police?”

“Of course not,” I chuckle. “They would have laughed at me and told me not to let my loan payments slip behind, like papa’s did. No, I did something even more stupid. I joined them.”

Her mouth falls open.

“It was simple enough. I found someone who needed work done, did a few jobs, and made it clear that I thought whatever happened with my father was his business, not mine. I played my part convincingly. Killed bad people who deserved it, made myself valuable enough that I faced few or no consequences when I turned some jobs down—no women, no children, people I deemed innocent.”

I pause to take a few bites of my food while Autumn does the same, but her gaze never wavers from me.

“When I found you,” I say with a heavy sigh, leaning forward and pouring myself a second glass of wine as I decide it’s time to come clean, “I… half-lied.”

“What?”

“It was a lovely night before that,” I said, leaning back in my chair and swirling my wine around. “I enjoyed a pleasant dinner with some of the most cruel and wealthy bastards in the city, and then I enjoyed the looks on their faces when I stole an Uzi from one of their guards upstairs and gunned down each and every one of the bastards. Nearly all the leaders of the Gregorovitch bratva, wiped out in one sitting, save for the top ass himself—the pakhan, something like a don in the Italian mafia.”

Autumn’s face is pale, and she isn’t moving. I worry I might have said too much, but I’m past the point of holding back.

“I needed to make my escape. So, I ransacked his house, found the keys to this little toy of his-” I gesture to the yacht. “-and took off with it, and you.”

“I… was being held here by the people you massacred?” she breathes, and I nod. “So, you… you’ve saved my life more times than I thought.”

“The Gregorovitches are not known for their kindness to women,” I say politely and begin finishing off my dinner.

Autumn is silent for a few moments, but I realize it isn’t shock on her face—she’s pensive.

“Wait, Gregorovitch?”

“Da. They were small time when my parents were killed by the bratva I joined, but they either killed or recruited my old mafia until there was nobody left but me. They planned to kill me at that dinner, so I shot first.”

“Gregorovitch…” she repeats. “Is that a common name?”

“Why?”

“This is a stretch, but was anyone tied to that family named Arthur?”

I stop chewing, swallow, and stare her down as I lean forward.

“Why?” I ask again in a muted tone, the gears already clicking in my head.

“There was an Arthur Gregorovitch who was a finalist behind me in the competition for the scholarship that got me into that course in Moscow,” she says. “He… I met him only once, but he was a piece of shit. He was rich, and he liked to show it off. Rubbing it in people’s faces. He was always bored, and…”

“… always looking for something to keep him entertained, almost like he wants something to piss him off so he has an excuse to show off?”

We stare at each other for a few moments as we begin to realize our meeting might not have been as random as we thought. I stroke my beard, hiding the grave look on my face. After a few long moments, I take a breath and look at her evenly.

“His name is Artur,” I say. “He Americanizes his name to make it sound more natural over there. You’re right about several things. He is rich, in fact. One of the richest families in Russia. He is also the son of the Gregorovitch boss. And if what you’re telling me is true…”

“… he was the one who ordered me kidnapped,” she breathes, looking out onto the water with vacant, glassy eyes. “I… I was just some Russian brat’s plaything.”

“No,” I say, reaching across the table and taking her by the hand. “You are an intelligent, driven woman who had a crime committed against her by some Russian brat with too much time and money on his hands.”

This explains everything. The bratva no doubt put out the INTERPOL alert for her, thinking they could get their hands on her once she was in police custody, and they would be right. It also explains why they’re chasing us so relentlessly.

The two of us in particular, sailing across the sea in this particular yacht, are one giant ball of insults against the Gregorovitch name. They won’t stop at anything to get us. We need to make it to safety, and quickly.

And then, I need to deal with Artur.

Permanently.