“I feel dead,” she whispers as she hugs me tightly, breaking down. We hold each other for what feels like an eternity.
“I can’t believe I found you,” I say as my hands pat her face, testing to see she is real and not some figment of my imagination.
“Me either.” She smiles. “Is my father still alive?” she asks.
“Yes. Sergei is alive. He misses you so much.” Relief washes over Anna’s face. “Where have you been? You disappeared. The agency is looking for you.”
Anna’s eyes narrow. “Why would they be looking for me when they know where I am?”
I still. “They know you are here?” Anna nods. “They told me they haven’t been able to find you since the first mission.”
Anna’s brows pull together. “They sent me here. My mission was to infiltrate the Dominguez cartel.”
“But they told me you went rogue.”
“They told you what? No. My instructions have been very clear. I wasn’t allowed to be in touch with anyone in case itblew my cover. I had to say goodbye to you, to my father, to everything, but they said it would only be for a couple of years or until I got what they needed.” I’m so confused. Did they lie to me? It’s not like they haven’t omitted things before. “I thought you had gone rogue.”
“Me?”
“Yes. They said you disappeared on a mission.”
I shake my head. “No, I came back.”
“So did I.”
“Fuck.” I look at her.
“They probably told us that story so we wouldn’t come looking for each other,” Anna suggests.
I pace the room. “I can’t believe they did that.”
“I tried looking for you,” Anna confesses.
“So did I,” I tell her.
“They never wanted us together. They know we are stronger together,” Anna states.
“We are. Always have been. I’ve missed you so much,” I tell her as we embrace again.
“I’ve been so lonely without you, Elena,” she confesses.
“Me too.”
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“Europe. With the Bratva,” I tell her.
“Shit. That is the last place you ever wanted to be.”
I nod. “Guess you can’t escape it.”
Anna shakes her head, “You can’t.” She gives me a sad smile. “Come, let’s pop some champagne, we have so much to catch up on. You’re safe here with me. None of Pedro’s men will hurt you here,” she explains as she walks over to the bar.
“Nice set up.” I grin as she grabs a bottle of champagne from her bar fridge and pops the cork.
“The color pink makes me want to vomit.” She chuckles as she pours us both a glass of champagne and hands one over to me. “To family,” she says as we clink the pink glasses together.
“To family,” I say in agreement.