Page 59 of Lethal Obsession

“He said he’d be here this morning.” Masha doesn’t look remotely mollified. “And he never breaks his promises.”

I don’t miss the flash of pain that crosses Darya’s face. She promised Alexei that she’d come back for him when she and Deda Sergei escaped the Orlovs. Although she never talks about it, I know she still feels terrible guilt at leaving her brother, even though it was Alexei’s choice to stay. Neither of them could have imagined how long it would take for her to see that promise through—nor the bloody circumstances under which they would eventually be reunited.

That’s the thing about promises. You never know how they’ll be fulfilled.

“Alexei wouldn’t have broken his promise to you if he had any choice, myshka,” I say, taking my sister’s hand. “It must have been something very urgent. But he’ll be okay, I’m sure of it.” I glance at my brother, who, taking the hint, clears his throat and nods, giving Masha his best attempt at a reassuring smile.

“Alexei had to go away in a hurry,” he says. “But you’ll see him soon.”

Masha’s frown deepens. “When?” she asks bluntly, her bright blue eyes piercing Mickey like lasers.

“Oh, you know Alexei.” Lars, emerging from the shower, saves Mickey by answering for him. He gives Masha the wide, loose grin that is almost impossible not to return. “He’s even busier than your papa, and just as terrible at answering questions. Go and shower, Mickey,” he says, pushing my brother toward his room. “We need to get moving.” Turning his smile back to Masha, he goes on in his light, infinitely reassuring tone. “Alexei will be fine, Masha. You’ll see him soon.”

She stares at Lars for a long moment, and despite her young years, I don’t envy him being pinned beneath her scrutiny. Masha has an uncomfortable ability to sniff out bullshit, possibly a side effect from spending the first years of her life as the only infant in a world of very unpredictable adults. “You don’t know where he is either,” she pronounces finally. “And you’re worried about him.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room as everyone searches for an answer to give her.

Masha, however, having delivered her judgment, is no longer interested in answers. “We may as well go to that dance shop I told you about,” she says imperiously to Darya, standing up. “There’s no point staying here. They don’t know any more than we do.”

I bite back a smile. Darya casts me an apologetic look.

“Go,” I say, kissing her cheek. “I’ll be fine. Bryce can give me a ride back to my flat.”

“I was planning to spend some time with you,” she says, looking worried.

“Don’t worry. Honestly.” I hug her. “Masha never gets to spend time with you on her own since the boys came along. You should make the most of the weekend and take her shopping. She’ll love it.”

“Are you sure?” Pulling back, Darya scrutinizes my face. “It’s been such a crazy time. I’m sorry about this trouble with Alexei.”

“Oh, don’t be.” I wave her away, giving her my best reassuring smile. “It’s just life, right? And anyway, I want to hang out with Benny and Lourdes.”

She looks relieved. “Of course you do. Well, if you’re sure . . . ?”

“I am.” I hug Masha and see them both to the door, almost hustling them out of it in my haste to get Lars on his own, while Mickey is still in the shower.

Finally they’re gone. I spin around, but Lars, clearly expecting my questions, holds up his hands warningly.

“I don’t know where he is, darling, I swear. As soon as I do I’ll tell you.”

“What happened?” I ask. “Really, Lars? Not the filtered version Bryce and Luis gave me. Alexei left most of his things including his laptop here, so it has to be something urgent.”

“You know Lex,” he says, doing his best to maintain a light tone. “There’s always someone trying to kill him.”

Kill him? Cold horror runs through my veins.

“Oh, darling.” Seeing my face, Lars drops his casual facade. “Lex ran into some trouble in Miami a few days ago. He needs to lie low for a while, out of the US. Mickey and I organized a new identity for him—that’s one of the reasons we didn’t make it to your recital.”

He shakes his head slowly, his uncharacteristically grim expression making him look uncannily similar to Alexei. Their personalities are so polar opposite that usually the physical likeness between the two is easy to miss, especially given Alexei’s lone eye. But at times, like now, when Lars can’t quite hide his laser-sharp focus behind the laid-back persona he shows the world, the two of them could almost be twins.

“Then this morning,” he goes on, taking my hand and covering it with both of his, “Lex realized someone had him under surveillance. He went down to confront them. The next thing we knew, there were bullets flying, and he had to make a run for it. He cut comms and disappeared. We have contingency plans in place, so I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later, but for now, that’s it, Ofelia. That’s all I know.”

I stare at him, but somehow I already know he’s telling the truth.

Lars strokes my hand, watching me. Then, reading my eyes, slowly his own narrow in comprehension. “He didn’t run because of you, Ofelia.”

The gentle way he says it is somehow far more devastating than if he’d made a callous remark.

I blink back a sudden, salty-tasting urge to cry, not least the result of the high emotions of the past twenty-four hours.