Page 109 of Stalked
But Orlov closes the distance.
“Ms. Morgan.” His voice carries across the space between us. “Wait.”
I don't wait. I duck between two buildings into an alley that should cut through to the next street.
The alley is narrower than I remember. Dumpsters line one side, and the afternoon sun barely reaches the pavement. My breath comes harsh and fast as I hurry toward the far end.
Footsteps echo behind me.
“We should talk,” Orlov calls out, closer now.
I'm halfway through when a figure steps into the alley ahead, blocking my path. My scream catches in my throat?—
But it's not another threat. It's a man I don't recognize, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket. He positions himself between me and Orlov with practiced ease.
“Walk away,” the stranger says to Orlov, his voice flat and dangerous.
Orlov stops. “This doesn't concern you.”
“It does.” The stranger's hand moves to his side, where I catch the outline of a gun beneath his jacket. “She's protected. You touch her, you die.”
Orlov stares at the stranger for a long moment before raising his hands in mock surrender. “My mistake.”
He backs away slowly, that calculated smile returning as his gaze finds mine one last time. “Give Vane my regards, Ms. Morgan.”
The stranger doesn't move until Orlov disappears around the corner. Only then does he turn to me, and I see his face clearly—angular features. These dark eyes scan the alley with methodical precision.
“You're fine,” he says. Not a question. A statement.
“Who the hell are you?” My voice shakes despite my best efforts.
“Lark.” He gestures toward the alley's far exit. “Car's this way. I'll drive you back to the inn.”
“I didn't ask for—” I stop, realization crashing over me. “Vane sent you.”
“He's had someone on you since you moved to Ravenwood.” Lark starts walking, clearly expecting me to follow. “Increased detail after you witnessed the interrogation.”
After I witnessed him torturing someone. My legs move automatically, following him toward a black SUV parked at the alley's end.
“How long have you been following me?”
“Since you left your apartment this morning.” He opens the passenger door. “Get in.”
I climb inside because what else am I going to do? My hands won't stop trembling as Lark circles around to the driver's seat.
He starts the engine, pulling smoothly into traffic. “Gallery's been covered since you opened it.”
The scope of it hits me like a physical blow. Every step I've taken since returning to Ravenwood has been monitored, managed, and protected by people I never saw. My freedom has been an illusion, carefully maintained by Vane's invisible network.
“He knew someone would come for me,” I whisper.
Lark's jaw tightens. “They are scrambling because their Uncle, Ilya Orlov, is missing and they want leverage.”
Not a game. Not some theatrical display of dominance or possession.
Real danger. Real consequences.
I lean my head against the window, watching Ravenwood slide past. The town I thought I knew, filled with threats I never imagined. And Vane, pulling strings I couldn't see, protecting me from dangers he helped create.
