Page 70 of Twisted Pact
“Can you blame me? Every instinct I have says keeping you locked away is safer.”
“Safer isn’t always better.”
The waiter appears with our wine, but before he can pour, Alexei holds up a hand. “I’ll handle it.” His voice carries an authority that makes the waiter step back.
Alexei takes both bottles and examines the labels, checking the seals with the kind of attention that tells me this isn’t about wine preference and more about making sure nothing is tampered with. He pours my glass first, watching the liquid like it might catch fire, then his own. Only after he’s satisfied does he nod to the waiter to leave us alone.
“Was that necessary?” I ask.
“Everything is necessary when it comes to your safety.” He slides my glass across to me with the kind of control that reminds me who I’m sitting across from. “Drink.”
It’s not a request.
I take a sip and try not to think about the fact that my stomach has been weird for a couple of weeks now. Nausea comes and goes, and bloating makes my dress feel uncomfortable.
It has to be stress. Three weeks of isolation and constant threat would make anyone’s body react.
Regardless, I don’t drink anymore because it doesn’t agree with me.
“Tell me something,” I begin after the waiter leaves. “If you could do anything else with your life, what would it be?”
Alexei raises an eyebrow. “That’s quite a question.”
“Humor me. We’re on a date. Normal people talk about things like this on dates.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“It’s as close as we’re going to get, so answer the question.”
He takes a long sip of wine before responding. “I’d probably teach. Literature, maybe. Or history. Something where I could spend my days with books instead of guns.”
The answer surprises me. “Really?”
“Shocked that the criminal has dreams beyond violence?”
“Shocked that you’d admit it.”
“You asked, I answered.” He sets down his glass and rests his forearms on the table. “What about you? If you finish your doctorate and escape this world like you’re planning, what then?”
“Consulting work, maybe. International business analysis for legitimate companies. Something that uses what I’ve learned without requiring me to be part of a criminal organization.”
“You think you can just walk away from all this?”
“I have to believe I can. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Our food arrives, some kind of seafood dish that looks incredible but makes my stomach churn. I take a small bite and try to ignore the nausea.
“You’re not eating much,” Alexei observes.
“Just not very hungry.”
“You’ve barely eaten the past few days. Are you feeling okay?”
“Fine. Just stress from everything.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but lets it drop. We fall into easier conversation. Books we’ve read. Places we’d like to travel. Normal things that normal people discuss over dinner.
For a few minutes, I pretend we’re just two people on a date instead of a captor and his captive, or a criminal and the daughter of another criminal family. Instead of two people whose futures probably don’t align, no matter how much we might want them to.
