Page 59 of Vendetta Vows

NIGHT

The phone feelsstrange in my hand after the chaos of the past two days. I stare at it for a moment, still marveling at the fact that Ruslan kept his promise to retrieve it for me. One more vow kept.

I take a deep breath and dial Hannah's number. She picks up before the first ring is even finished.

"Aurora? Oh my God, are you okay? Where have you been?" Her voice is pitched high with worry. "I've been texting you since yesterday! I thought?—"

"I'm fine," I cut in, trying to keep my voice calm. "I'm safe. I promise."

"Are you? I mean, you disappeared after someone got killed right in front of us! And when I couldn't reach you, I thought…" She takes a shuddering breath. "Look, it's just good to hear from you."

"I'm sorry for putting you through that. But I swear I'm safe."

"Where are you, anyway?"

I hesitate, debating how much to reveal. "I'm at Ruslan's place."

"Ruslan's place?" Hannah's voice jumps several octaves. "Like,Ruslan Dragunov'splace? Same Ruslan Dragunov who makes Henry Cavill look like a pimple-faced teenager? That Ruslan Dragunov?"

"Same one," I say.

"You know he came looking for you yesterday, right? Stormed onto the set like he owned the place. Which I guess he kind of does now that I think about it, and demanded to know where you were." Hannah's words tumble out in a rush. "He kept telling me that you were in danger. And…"

She stops for a moment. "He made Darren take my phone so he could read my messages. And well, once he saw your texts, he took off like a bat out of hell to go get you."

My stomach does a little flip. "He did?"

"Yes! That's why I've been worried sick! And now you tell me you're at his place? Are you sure you're okay?"

I can't help but feel a nervous laugh bubble up. "I'm fine, Hannah. I promise."

"Okay, if you say so. It's just..." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Something weird is going on. When I got home last night, the apartment felt... off. Like someone had been in there. Moving things around. Nothing's missing. But things just aren't quite where they normally are."

I swallow hard, guilt clawing at my insides.

My stomach twists into a knot. The clean-up crew. I picture strangers in gloves wiping away blood, erasing evidence, and rearranging our space to cover their tracks.

"I..." The words stick in my throat.

How can I explain this without scaring her even more?

Hey Hannah, don't worry about our apartment, it's just that a Russian mobster sent his guys to dispose of a corpse from my bedroom floor.

"Aurora? Are you still there?" Hannah's voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm still here." I clutch the phone tighter, pressing it to my ear as if that could somehow make this conversation easier.

"So what do you think? You think someone's been in the apartment?" Hannah presses.

My mind races for a plausible explanation. Something—anything—that isn't the truth.

"I was in such a panic when I left, I probably knocked things around." I force a light laugh. "You know how I get when I'm freaking out."

"I don't know..." Hannah doesn't sound convinced. "This feels different."

I sink onto the edge of the massive bed, guilt eating away at me.

There's so much I want to tell her. About the marriage agreement, about Ruslan being bratva, about the dead man that tried to kill me in my bedroom.

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