CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
ALEXANDRA
The crisp night air was cold against Alexandra’s tear-stained cheeks. She wished she had brought a jacket, but had no time to spare. Viktor might order the gates around the mansion closed, and so she had to hurry.
Her feet scuffled and smacked against the pavement with each stride. She ran past the guards, past flowerbeds, and down the slope of the drive until she was past the gates, and she kept running. For the second time today, she was grateful she had worn flats.
First, she would get to Uncle Tolya. After that, Alexandra was uncertain what would happen, but if she had any chance at helping her father and her family, it was through Uncle Tolya. For a moment, she contemplated calling Elena, but after reflexively reaching to where her purse would have hung, it dawned on her that she didn’t have a phone to use.
Only after the Sokolov mansion was a speck in the distance, and only after Alexandra had received a few odd looks from passers-by, did she slow her pace. And that was only barely. She bit down on her lip to try and keep her emotions in check and wiped her cheeks again when a family walking past her on the sidewalk stopped to ask if she was alright.
“I-I’m fine, really. Where’s the nearest subway station?” she asked them. They pointed down the street, gave her a few short directions, and she took off jogging again to get to the subway. Her lungs burned and her muscles were starting to cramp, but she pushed on.
By the time she reached the subway station, she was gasping out sobs. It took a few minutes of leaning against the wall and focusing on her breathing to pull herself together.
Then, she realized she had no way to pay for the train.
Letting out a long sigh, she only hesitated briefly before deciding to duck under the turnstile for now, and pay for two tickets the next time she took the subway. She doubted anyone would say something to her or make a scene; who wanted to disrupt a crying woman?
Her plan went over without a hitch. As she trotted along near the tracks then, looking for the correct train, she did a mental double-check of Uncle Tolya’s address. Elena had told her in passing that he lived on Oakdale, and while Alexandra wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of the address, she figured that she could check the mail until she found the right place. Not only was Elena’s mail being redirected, but Uncle Tolya would have his name on whatever letters came in or out of the house, too. It was a short, exclusive street. She only hoped she could find the place quickly enough. Viktor had said soon, but how soon was that, really?
Would they tie him up? Would they torture him on the way to wherever they took him? She couldn’t imagine her father being very violent or resisting, but…
Alexandra felt dizzy with trying to juggle all of the pieces of the puzzle, and instead focused her breathing again. One thing at a time. Right now, all that mattered was getting to Uncle Tolya.
The train approached. Alexandra watched it come closer, her heart heavy as she considered all that she knew.
Viktor was a monster for taking her father. She felt like she had to do something, anything, to save him. Even when her father was at his worst, even on the day he’d threatened to throw her brother Andrei out of the house, he had never been capable of murder. Sergei Volkin just didn’t have it in him.
Yes, it was true she hadn’t known about his debts, and yes, she doubted he would ever be able to repay them, but there was no way he would murder his friend. Money was just money; Father would never betray a friend like that. Alexandra knew he was innocent with every fiber of her being, all the way to the core of her bones.
What she wasn’t certain about was Viktor. His words were slippery and elusive, like a snake disappearing into tall grass. Viktor had said he was ‘bringing Sergei in’ but not much more. Would he torture her Father until he confessed, even if only to drive out a false confession?
Worse yet, if her father refused to confess, would they start hurting Alexandra’s mother or brother until her father yielded?
Alexandra hadn’t known it was possible, but her heart sank further as she realized that Viktor might even resort to hurting her just to get to her father.
Their shared meals, their shared bodies, their conversations, even the look Viktor got in his eyes when he gazed down at her in bed—like she was dearly loved and precious—had that all been a ruse? He’d asked way too many questions about her family. And she had answered them honestly. What if that information got her family hurt now?
The train had just pulled into the station. In the glass of the nearest window, she caught the reflection of a familiar face, and her grief turned to fear.
Roman.
Her heart leapt into her throat. Thank God the train hadn’t pulled away yet. She heard a crackling metallic voice announcing departure soon and pushed her way through the opening door, taking off through the cabin and into the next subway car. A quick glance behind her revealed that Roman had, indeed, spotted her. He bolted toward her.
Alexandra wove past a throng of teenagers, almost tripped over an elderly man seated with a newspaper, and rushed to get out of the car. She heard the door slide on the opposite end of the train, imagined Roman right behind her, and rushed out of the train against a flow of incoming passengers.
People were staring now, trying to make sense of the puffy-eyed woman with windswept hair running as though her life depended on it. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Roman reach the closing doors of the train car as it pulled away from the station.
She let out a rattling exhale of relief, slowing down slightly, and continued jogging. She’d go back up to the street.
She still had to get to Uncle Tolya.