Page 243 of Ruins
Her conviction strikes like a knife, sharp and undeniable. I know Vasilisa is strong, but hearing it from her lips makes it absolute.
“I know,” I say just to her, my thumb pressing into her knee, not tracing anymore, just holding her there. “I’vealwaysknown.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken things. Luca watches me, waiting for my call. Vasilisa watches me, waiting for mytrust.
“Alright, but I can’t make any decision about your safety until we hear the audio… maybe you should,” I say to her arching an eyebrow as her frown turns into a deep scowl.
“No,” she says with conviction. “I’m not leaving this room, I want to hear it.”
I exhale, dragging a hand down my jaw before looking at Luca. “When did Beaumont send the file?’”
“Right before I got here, to your secure email.”
I ignore Luca’s stare and open the file. The first crackles bleed through the speakers—garbled, broken—but then, a voice slices through the static.
Miroslav Popov.
Vasilisa goes completely still, her breath hitching.
“Please one more chance.”
“You’ve run out of chances Popov, you over promised and didn’t deliver.”
“This was out of my hands. Korsakov—”
A sharp metallic click cuts Miroslav off, the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. The silence that follows is suffocating.
“I can give you what you want plus more money.”
“I don’t need your fucking money, I want what was promised.”
“Both my daughters are upstairs, please, my youngest is fifteen.”
“Fifteen?”
“Yes.”
A chair scrapes, footsteps shuffle—then another voice cuts in, low, urgent.“Miroslav, I— holy fuck.”
Vasilisa jerks upright at the sound of Jude Olsen’s voice, her breath catching as shock flares in her eyes.
“Jude, now is not the fucking time!”
“The boyfriend?”
“I— yes.”
“We should talk.”
The sound of the door shutting and Miroslav cursing under his breath ends the audio.
Vasilisa is frozen, her breath shallow, her wide eyes locked on the screen as if she can will the audio to change. The fire that usually burns in her is dimmed, clouded with worry.
A pang of helplessness settles in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. All I can do is hold her tighter.
“He wants Mimi,” she breathes, her voice laced with worry.
“We won’t let that happen,” I murmur, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. My gaze flicks to Luca. “Is that what we think the drop-off is for?”
