Page 113 of Blood & Snow
"It's not dirty money," I protest weakly.
"Then what is it?"
I stand and walk to the window, parting the new curtains to look down at the street below.
A black sedan idles at the corner, its occupants invisible behind tinted glass.
Xander's men are watching and waiting.
They follow me everywhere now, shadows that ensure my safety while reminding me of my captivity.
"I can't explain it in a way that won't hurt you," I say without turning around.
"Not explaining it hurts more."
The car below drives away, disappearing into Moscow's evening traffic to circle the block and find somewhere inconspicuous to park.
Another will replace it within the hour.
The cycle never breaks.
"If I tell you to trust me, will you?"
"I want to."
"But you can't."
"Not while you're lying to me."
I turn back to face her, memorizing the worry in her expression.
If Irina takes the children and runs, how long before Xander finds them?
How long before his patience with my family complications runs out?
"The hotel work is real," I say, constructing truth from fragments.
"But some of the guests… they ask for additional services."
"What services?"
"Discretion. Privacy. They pay me to forget what I see, what I clean up after."
It's close enough to reality that my voice rings with authenticity.
Irina's eyes narrow as she processes the implication.
"What do you see?"
"Things I wish I didn't."
"Nadya—"
"Please."
I cross back to the sofa, kneeling in front of her.
"Please don't ask me to choose between protecting you and protecting them. I won't survive it."
