Page 74 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m really nervous.

But it’s okay.

All I have to do is stay out of sight. How hard can it be?

I pretend to sleep late to avoid Nestor because I don’t want to have to lie to him if he happens to ask me what I’m doing today.

So I wait in my room until he’s gone, my stomach aching from nerves.

I watch out of the window until his car is out of sight before I head down and climb into my car—well, the one that Nestor gave me to drive, because apparentlymycar was a death trap and wheels and had to be sent straight to the scrap yard.

It’s a black Audi, a beautiful car, and I might learn to appreciate cars more simply because I get to drive it.

It doesn’t take me long to get to the place Miron listed. I’m early, but that was my plan. It seems better to already be established and hidden by the time he arrives.

I sit in the car, ducked low for thirty minutes before I spot him walking towards the building with two men following close behind him like security guards.

Shit. I didn’t think this part through. Do I follow him in? How else will I know who he’s meeting?

I pull my cap down low and climb out of the car, walking casually into the coffee shop and hovering near the wall while I suss out where he’s going to sit. He goes to the back of the shop and through a door with a sign that says employees only.

Dammit.

But it does become quickly obvious that no one is really paying any attention to me, and in a bold, terrifying move, I walk straight to that door, push it open and slip through.

I hear Miron’s voice not too far away, coming from a room to the side. Move closer, but a man steps out.

“Hey, girl, what are you doing here? You don’t work here,” he shouts. I freeze in horror, but then snap out of it and turn to run before Miron sees me.

I run straight back out of the door and through the coffee shop, into the parking lot.

Instead of going straight to the car, because if they see me, they’ll associate it with me and trace the details of the car to Nestor, I run to the left, down the road—and I just keep going until I have a chance to duck into an alleyway, out of sight.

Pressed against a wall, crouching low to the ground in the back of the alley, I wait with my eyes glued to the entrance facing the road.

One of the security guards runs past the alleyway, not turning in.

My head is spinning. My heart is beating so fast it’s hurting.

But relief washes over me when he keeps going.

I stand up, ready to rip off the disguise and walk calmly back to the car as though I know nothing of what just happened, but as I do, a dizzy spell slams into me and I have to lean on the wall to avoid falling on my face. Nausea tightens my stomach.

“It’s just stress, take a breath,” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes and trying desperately to pull myself together.

But it’s not working, and the dizziness won’t subside.

I can’t drive home like this. It’s too risky. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I didn’t even run that far.

With no other choice, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Ulyana.

“Hi,” I say sheepishly when she answers.

“Hey, you, what are you up to?”

“I need your help, actually. Are you free?” My words are strained.

“Of course, I’ll drop anything for you. What do you need? Why do you sound so weird?”

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