Page 70 of Mr. and Mrs. Novak

"Chicken tikka masala?" I try, opting for an Indian dish this time.

Another skeptical face.

"Profiteroles?" I try again. "Deal," he responds with a big smile. "I want pancakes tomorrow morning, chicken tomorrow at lunch, and profiteroles tomorrow evening," he specifies before leaving with his colleague.

Shocked, I stand there. That jerk had played me!

"I must say, you're a champion negotiator," Ruslan throws at me, laughing at my expense. "Shut up!"

The tulips had grown more and buds were beginning to appear. I bring them to our room and place them on a small table near the window. And as I contemplate them, Ruslan comes behind me and takes me in his arms. I had understood what he was asking when he had given me those bulbs. Time. Time to repair our relationship. During the minutes that follow, neither of us speaks, we just stay like this, simply enjoying each other.

Despite the modest size of our refuge, we have two living areas. Ruslan settles in one and I in the other. I'm relieved to be able to get back to work and continue the ongoing investigations, but above all, I want to bring Stanford down. It's with definite excitement that I connect to the video conference with my team. I turn on my computer, plug in my headset, and launch the secure connection. India, Delta, and Echo are already there. Of course, no camera, security protocol requires it.

"Hey Sierra," Echo says to me, "I heard you played Need for Speed in real conditions without us, not cool." "I promise, next time I'll invite you. So, what's new?" "Half of eighteen," India throws at me.

Delta and Echo sigh loudly.

"India," we groan in unison. "Stop with your stupid joke," I say. "You pull this out at every briefing." "But it's funny, isn't it?"

Long silence.

"Pfff! Nobody understands me!" she complains. "Poor baby, come talk to me during the break if you need to," Echo suggests. "No way! I refuse to be psychoanalyzed by you. Get thee behind me, Satan!"

I chuckle. I wouldn't like that either. Getting serious again, Delta quickly briefs me on the situation. After that, I explain my problems with Stanford.

"I need you to track down the next deliveries," I explain. "We need to move fast because he knows we're on his trail."

I give them a brief debriefing on all the information at my disposal.

"OK," says Delta, "let's start from what we know and cross-reference all the databases we have access to. We'll eventually spot some anomalies."

We spend the day analyzing the multiple databases we have on Stanford and his companies. Finally, we find traces of five convoys. Just one problem: the information is from yesterday and since then, no trace of these transports. It's as if they had vanished, completely disappearing from our radar.

"Damn, what's going on?" I sigh, eyes fixed on the screen.

The day ends without us getting any more results.

I step out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, when Ruslan moves closer and pulls me into his arms. I immediately sense the subtle tension in his muscles, betraying his concern.

"What’s wrong?" I whisper.

He hesitates, avoiding my gaze.

"Natasha contacted me. She wants to see me."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath catches in my throat.

"What do you mean, ‘she wants to see you’?" I ask, my voice hard.

"Sophia..."

I step back, putting distance between us. He doesn’t try to stop me.

"Go see her if that’s what you want. I won’t stop you."

Yes, I’m jealous. So what? I thought that woman was part of the past, that chapter of our story filled with lies and manipulation. But I see it in his eyes—that need to go to her. And it rips me apart.

I naively believed he had chosen me, that Natasha was just someone he used for the sake of the investigation. But it's more than that. He’s far too eager to see her again.