Page 131 of Boardroom Mask

“What about the—” I wave my hand in the direction of my apartment. “The other stuff. The kill order. The contract on me. All of that.”

Kir cups my face in both hands. His thumbs brush my cheekbones and his eyes are clear and bright for the first time in weeks. “All done. Without Lukas running the company, the Bratva loses its corporate cover. The chairman’s office is thepakhan’soffice, and now, it’smyoffice. I decide what happens, and I say you’re safe.” He presses his forehead against mine. “You’re safe, little fox. It’s over.”

I let that sink in. Nobody is coming through my window tonight. Nobody is going to corner me in an alley or a theater or a bathroom. There is no more list with my name on it. There is no more ticking clock.

Which means…

…that Kir and I don’t need our arrangement anymore.

The realization moves through me slowly. Every reason we gave ourselves for doing this just evaporated. If I stay now, it’s not because I have to, or because the man who was supposed to kill me became the man who keeps me alive instead.

If I stay, it’s because I want to. That’s it. No masks. No excuses. Completely voluntary.

Am I ready for that?

“Kir.”

“Hm?”

“Does this mean I can publish the article?”

His thumbs stop moving on my cheeks. The grin doesn’t disappear entirely, but it loses some wattage. I can see the gears shifting behind his eyes as a question he hasn’t considered yet lands square in his lap. “Let’s, uh.” He drops his hands and takes a small step back. “Let’s not worry about that right now.”

“But—”

“Just for tonight.” He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, grazing his lips against my knuckles. “Let’s just enjoy our freedom for five minutes before we start setting fire to things. Okay?”

I look at him, then at my laptop on the counter behind me, where the draft still waits in an unsent email to Doug. “Okay,” I say. “Five minutes.”

He pulls me into him and holds on.

52

JILLIAN

“I know you care / I know it has always been there / But there’s trouble ahead, I can feel it”

— “I Know You Care” by Ellie Goulding

Five minutes of freedom turns into Kir grabbing his car keys and telling me to put on real shoes.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused.

“Does it matter?”

I pause, consider the question, and decide that it doesn’t. Besides, what girl in her right mind doesn’t like being swept off her feet and carried unknowingly into a fun day out with the man of her dreams? Kir’s giddiness is infectious, and I find myself smiling for no reason at all.

I swap his sweatpants for my jeans from last night, keep his T-shirt because it smells like him and I’m not giving it backever ever never you’ll have to kill me first, then shove my feet into my boots. Cut to ten minutes later, and we’re on the Belt Parkwayheading south in his black sedan with the windows cracked and the December air whipping through the car.

Kir drives fast for the sheer hell of it. His left hand is on the wheel. His right is on my thigh.

I tip my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. The wind is pleasantly cold on my face and Kir’s hand is warm and heavy. The radio is burbling happily, the city is peeling away behind us, and I find myself realizing that I’m actually happy, goddammit.

There’s no asterisk orbutto mar this happiness. It’s just plain, dumb, ordinary happiness, sans complications of any kind. It boggles me that other people get to be like this all the time without even thinking about it. I didn’t know I still had the capacity.

What if I’m not as broken as I think I am?

“Coney Island,” I say when I spot the sign. My confusion deepens. “Are we aware that it’s the dead of winter?”