Page 13 of Gilded in Blood

I hate putting people I care about in danger. That’s one of the biggest reasons I’m not fighting this harder. I can’t risk my friends or classmates getting caught in Bratva crossfire.

The pilot’s voice comes over the intercom. “Preparing for takeoff. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

I buckle in, rest my head against the cool leather of the seat, and close my eyes. The adrenaline from the night is finally crashing. The hum of the engines lulls me as the jet accelerates down the runway and lifts into the sky.

Exhaustion pulls me under, and I drift off to sleep, the weight of Ilya’s piercing gray eyes still lingering in my mind.

The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom, pulling me from a deep sleep. “We have landed in New York.”

I blink groggily, disoriented. It feels like I only closed my eyes for five minutes, but the sky outside the windows is already light. A quick glance at my smartwatch tells me it’s just after 5 a.m. I must have slept the entire flight.

Ilya is already unbuckling, watching me with that same intense gray stare. We disembark, and a black SUV is waiting on the tarmac. A man standing beside it hands the keys to Ilya without a word. My suitcase has been loaded into the trunk, and I slide into the passenger seat, exhaustion and jet lag weighing heavily on me.

The city is still mostly asleep as we drive, the streets quiet except for the first hints of early morning activity, delivery trucks, joggers, the soft glow of streetlights fading against the dawn. I rub my eyes and turn to him.

“Are we going to my family home?”

“No.”

“Then where? My sister’s place?”

“No.”

Panic edges into my voice. “Where are you taking me, Ilya?”

He keeps his eyes on the road. “My place.”

“What?” I stare at him, heart picking up speed. “Your place? Why?”

Before he can answer, his phone rings. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and answers. “Yeah, we landed.”

He switches almost immediately to rapid Russian, his voice low and clipped. I catch fragments, something about arrival, security, Michael, but I can’t make out enough to be sure who he’s talking to.

Eventually we reach Manhattan. The towering buildings loom around us as he turns into the underground parking garage of a modern high-rise. He ends the call, pockets his phone, and kills the engine.

“Where are we?” I ask, looking around the dimly lit garage.

“My building. My apartment.”

I shake my head, confusion and frustration mixing together. “Why aren’t we going to my house? I don’t even know you.”

“I’m following your brothers’ instructions,” he says calmly, turning those piercing steel-gray eyes on me. “Going back to the family home is too obvious right now. I’m not publicly connected to your family. No one will think to look for you here.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “This is the middle of the city. It’s completely exposed.”

“That’s exactly why it works. The best place to hide something is in plain sight.” He gets out of the car and comes around to open my door. “You’re staying with me.”

The words settle over me like a heavy blanket as I step out. This isn’t some temporary escort situation. I’m going to be living with this hot, controlling stranger for God knows how long.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ilya

Never in my life have I shied away from a job.

The harder, bloodier, and more impossible it is, the more likely they are to call me. Those are the assignments I live for. The ones I excell at.

But as I watched Milana sleeping across from me on the jet, I started to wonder if this might be the first job capable of breaking me. The flight was torture, and coming from me, that was saying something.