Page 28 of Dark Possession
She hesitates for a moment before wrapping her arms around me, clinging tighter than usual. I close my eyes and press my lips together, willing the sting behind them to fade. My fingers grip the fabric of her shirt, holding on as if it will somehow anchor me.
The scent of home clings to her—cheap detergent, something warm and familiar. For a second, I let myself sink into it, let myself believe I can fix this. That I can fix everything.
But the lie is too big. The fear, too real.
Marina pulls back first, her gaze searching mine. If she sees the fracture in my composure, she doesn’t comment. Instead, she forces a small smile and rubs at her eyes like she’s the one trying to hold it together.
“We’ll figure it out,” she agrees.
I nod because she needs me to.
After a little more small talk, I make up an excuse and leave, my thoughts tangled, my chest heavy.
The car is waiting for me when I step outside. I slide into the backseat and pull out my phone. My fingers hesitate over the screen, then I search for Sergei’s name.
The third article I find makes my stomach drop.
Another charity gala. Tonight. Downtown.
I suck in a breath, my pulse kicking into overdrive. It’s close. So close. This might be my only chance.
I lean forward. “Change of plans. Take me to this address.”
The driver nods, pulling away from the curb.
I stare out the window, my reflection a ghost against the glass. I’m not dressed for this. I look like an ordinary girl, not someone who belongs at an elite bratva event.
But after seeing Marina—after remembering what’s at stake—I don’t care.
I fish a lipstick from my bag, swipe it across my lips, then unfasten two buttons of my shirt. I pull the elastic from my hair and fluff it out, letting it fall around my shoulders.
It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.
But I don’t have a choice.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my sister safe.
Even if it means selling the last piece of myself I’ve been trying so hard to keep.
CHAPTER TEN
Lev
I GOT ALINA’S number from Koka. My fingers tighten around the phone as I dial, pressing it to my ear. The line rings once. Twice. By the fourth, my jaw clenches. No answer.
A slow burn of frustration coils in my chest, twisting into something darker. She’s ignoring me. That, or she’s hiding. Either way, I don’t have the patience for this kind of bullshit.
I call Koka back, my tone clipped. “Get Peta to track her phone.” He’s the only one I trust for this kind of job—fast, precise, and discreet.
“Got it, boss. I’ll call you back,” Koka answers without hesitation. The line cuts off, and I slam my phone onto the console.
I keep driving, but there’s no destination in mind—just the hum of the engine beneath my hands and the gnawing question in my head. What the hell is she up to?
Minutes stretch, taut and thin, until my phone vibrates against my palm. I answer before the second ring.
“She’s at a charity function,” Peta reports.
The words stop me cold.
