Page 18 of Tracking Shadows

“I don’t care how you deal with it, Alexei,” she says coldly. “Just don’t drag me down with you.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, and for a second, I’m at a loss for what to say. But then the anger flares up, and I can’t hold it back.

“You think I’m dragging you down?” I snap, stepping closer to her, feeling the heat of her body against mine. “You thinkyou’rethe only one who’s got something to lose here? Newsflash, Irina, I’ve got just as much riding on this as you do.”

“Then start acting like it!” she fires back, sharp as a whip. “Stop with the fucking jokes, and start taking this seriously!”

“I take this seriously!” I shout, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “But I’m not going to stop being who I am just because you can’t handle it!”

She flinches at that, and I immediately regret the words. But it’s too late. The damage is done.

“You know what?” she says, suddenly quiet and almost defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t handle it.”

The silence that follows is deafening. I don’t know what to say, how to fix this.

“Irina,” I start, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

“Save it,” she mutters, turning away from me. “I’m done talking.”

Chapter 6 – Irina

The silence between us stretches as I finish tying off the bandage on Alexei’s side. I keep my movements methodical, but I’m still thinking about the argument we had earlier. The air is thick with the remnants of tension, but there’s also something else I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the way he’s been looking at me.

Finally, I step back, wiping my hands on a clean rag.

“That should hold for now,” I say, my voice steady but a bit detached. I don’t want him to see how much this affects me.

He doesn’t move immediately, just watches me with those intense eyes of his, a small, almost teasing smile playing on his lips. “You know, for someone who claims not to care, you’re pretty good at this whole taking-care-of-people thing.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I just don’t want to be dragging your half-dead body out of a firefight later on. It’s self-preservation.”

He chuckles, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at his wound. “Sure, Irina. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the table, breaking the moment. I reach for it, my heart skipping a beat when I see the name on the screen. It's Katya

Sergei will be at the Gold Leaf Ball tomorrow. 8 PM. 3456 Ridgeway Ave.

“What is it?” Alexei asks, sitting up a little straighter.

“It’s from an informant,” I reply, my eyes scanning the message again to make sure I read it right. “Sergei’s going to be at the Gold Leaf Ball tomorrow. It’s a high-end event, starts at 8 PM.”

He takes a moment to process that, then meets my gaze. “Do you trust this informant?”

I hesitate, not because I doubt the information, but because I know what he’s really asking. Trust is a luxury we can’t afford, but this informant has come through for me before. Still, the possibility of a trap lingers in the back of my mind.

“Yes,” I say finally, but I don’t miss the flicker of doubt in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be cautious.”

Alexei nods, his expression thoughtful. “What if it’s a setup? Sergei’s no fool. He might expect us to make a move if we catch wind of where he’s going to be.”

“It’s a risk we have to take,” I reply. “But we won’t go in blind. We’ll prepare for every possibility.”

He considers that then gives me a small, appreciative nod. “Alright. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

I grab my laptop from the table and open it, quickly typing in the address to bring up a map of the area. The Gold Leaf Ball is being held at an exclusive venue, a sprawling mansion that caters to the city’s elite. From the satellite view, I can see the extensive grounds, the carefully manicured lawns, and the high walls surrounding the property.

“Looks like they’ve got top-notch security,” Alexei observes, leaning over my shoulder to get a better look at the screen. “Cameras, guards, probably a guest list a mile long.”

“That’s not all,” I add, zooming in on the surrounding streets. “The neighborhood is crawling with police, and there’s only one main entrance. If things go south, getting out is going to be a challenge.”

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