Page 59 of Inevitable Endings
Sawyer doesn’t argue, his gaze flicking to Ada, waiting for her response. He knows better than to step in between us when we’re like this.
Ada, however, is already shaking her head. “No. It’s too dangerous, Isabella.”
I scoff. “Dangerous? That’s the whole damn game we’re playing. When has anything we’ve done in the past few days been safe?”
“This is different.” Ada crosses her arms, her voice colder now, more controlled. “You could be recognized.”
I blink at her. “By who?”
“We don’t know.” She holds my gaze, unwavering. “That’s the point. You think nobody remembers Aslanov’s American nurse? You’ve been seen in Bratva circles before, Isabella. Your name has been mentioned. Maybe not often, but it only takes one person to put the pieces together. And if the wrong person does…”
The weight of her words settles in my stomach like a stone.
Sawyer leans forward. “She’s not wrong,” he says, his voice level. “We don’t know who’s loyal and who’s not. If Tsepov is tangled up in the fire case, then his name isn’t exactly clean. And if someone links you to Aslanov, we lose control of this entirething.”
I let out a slow, measured breath. They’re right, and I hate it.
“So what’s the alternative?” I ask, crossing my arms tightly.
“I go,” Ada says simply.
I blink. “You?”
She raises an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think I can?”
“It’s not that,” I say quickly. “But you’re not exactly—” I hesitate, trying to find the right words.
“Intimidating?” she finishes for me, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
I roll my eyes. “I was going to say that you’re more behind-the-scenes. Tsepov is a businessman, Ada. And you don’t know the details I know.”
“That’s why Sawyer is coming with me, and you are going to tell me those details. Besides, you aren’t exactly intimidating either; you were Aslanov’s obedient girl.”
My eye twitches as I hold up my middle finger in the air to her.
I glance at Sawyer, who gives me a half-shrug. “I clean up well,” he says. “Besides, if this guy needs to see someone intimidating, I’ll be enough.”
The plan is solid, but I still hate it. Every instinct in me wants to be there, to control the conversation, to read Tsepov myself. But I know that Ada’s concern isn’t just paranoia. We’re walking into a world where power shifts with whispers, and I don’t know where I stand in it yet.
I exhale sharply, forcing myself to nod. “Fine. But you both need to be careful. We don’t fully know what Tsepov wants or how desperate he is to move up.”
Ada’s smirk fades into something more serious. “We’ll handle it.”
I don’t like this. I don’t like being left behind. But for now, it’s the only way to move forward.
Sawyer rubs his stubble on his chin. “Eastport InternationalHoldings. Midtown, 52nd Street,” he mutters. “Let’s go knock on the Devil’s door.”
Chapter 27
Monsters in Our Heads
Aslanov
My body is heavy, sluggish, as though it’s buried beneath layers of stone, and yet there’s this gnawing, aching emptiness in the pit of my chest. It pulls me deeper into the void, and I can’t escape it. My breath comes in shallow gasps, like I’m drowning in thick air, tasting metal in my mouth; blood, maybe.
I’m alone.
At least, I think I am. But then, I feel it. A sensation that isn’t quite real, yet it’s so undeniable. Her. Isabella. It’s like a thread pulling me toward her, a connection I can’t break. I try to reach for her, my fingers trembling, searching through the suffocating dark. I can feel her warmth, her presence—so close, yet when I reach out, it’s like trying to grasp smoke.
