Alina casts her gaze down and reaches out to touch my hand, entwining her fingers with mine. I don’t know what it is about this gesture, but it makes my heart flutter. Focus on the task, right? Focus on the task- but it’s almost impossible when my mind is so light in her presence.
“Instead of shooting anyone, let’s just spend some time together?” Alina looks up at me with a small smile, lighting me up from within. “It would make me feel so much better.”
How can I say no?
I mean, I can’t say no, right? I have to spend more time with her to make sure that she trusts me. I breathe out, feeling the heated anger in my chest soften under her gaze, and squeeze her hand in mine. “Where do you want to go?”
First, Alina requests to go to the shore, so we drive to the lakefront and walk on the beach, her hand holding tightly to mine. She smiles and giggles when the water laps her toes, but I can see that, from time to time, her mind goes back to Olga’s words, and she frowns all of a sudden, staring into the distance.
She’s still so young and inexperienced in the criminal world. How could Olga even think about handing her to some douchebag who wouldn’t know how to treat her right? I purse my lips, tensing up just at the thought of it. I know how their arranged marriages work. She’ll just find a guy who wants to be a part of the Bratva, some rich and power-seeking old man who doesn’t give a shit about Alina.
Why does it bother me so much? I don’t know-but if Olga does pull something like this, I’ll be there to take my first shot at her.
After we’re done at the shore, I take Alina to a Mexican restaurant not far from our borders. I don’t want the Italians or Russians to see us together, so it’s better to stick closer to the Escarras’ territories. Besides, I know the restaurant’s owners, and I know the food there is good and authentic-unlike most other places in Chicago.
It’s the first time Alina tries Mexican food cooked by actual Mexicans, and it leaves her in awe. As soon as we get in, she admits that
she doesn’t like spicy food, so I order her chicken quesadilla and steak fajita and Alina keeps talking about how delicious and unusual it was even as we leave the restaurant.
“Don’t you have it in Britain?” I glance at her with curiosity. It’s already dark outside, but her honey hair and light skin make it easy for me to adore the sight of her-
Wait. I catch myself and look away. No, no, I’m just here for the task. I have to get to Riccardo-but if I get a little closer with her than necessary, it won’t spoil it, right? It won’t change anything. I’ll still be able to kill him, and…god, what am I thinking about?
“We do,” Alina says with a light-hearted note, and shrugs. “But it doesn’t taste real. There weren’t many good restaurants in my area, and all of them were either American or Italian, nothing in between.”
“An American restaurant?” I hum, leisurely looking around. We’re in Escarra territory now, so it should be safe here. “Is it like a McDonalds?”
Alina laughs and swats my arm in a joking reprimand. “No, of course not! We have steak places, barbecue, you know-”
“Hey.”
A sudden male voice cuts her off, following us from behind, and I instinctively put my hand on her shoulder before turning around. Who’s dumb enough to bother me in the Mexican territories? As soon as I look at the man, I recognize Hugo, one of the higher-ranked members of the Escarra gang and my own distant relative.
He doesn’t even look at me, though, as he walks closer, looking irritated. “You’re Russian, aren’t you? What are you doing in our territory? Explain yourself, or I will shoot you in one, two-”
“She’s with me,” I say calmly, feeling Alina tense up and instinctively step back from him. But my hand is still on her shoulder, and I don’t let her go. She’s under my protection now. There’s nothing to be worried about.
At that, Hugo finally looks at me and stops in his tracks. The look on his face goes from anger to confusion to a long exhale of understanding. He must know about my mission. I kinda hope he feels stupid now.
“Right.” He nods, looks between me and Alina, and raises his hands with an apologetic smile. “My bad. Enjoy your evening.”
I nod and turn away without another word, keeping my hold on Alina firm and gentle. She doesn’t mind it, following me without a note of protest. She has a frown on her face, though, and it looks like she’s still processing what just happened. Goddamnit. Is she gonna ask questions?
“What was that?”
Shit. I purse my lips. My relationship with the Escarras is the last thing I want to tell her about. No matter what the Russians have told her, Alina must know by now that they aren’t best friends with the Mexicans.
“Just an old friend,” I mutter, trying to avoid the topic, but Alina frowns even harder. She’s not one to step down easily, that much I’ve noticed.
“Why did he want to shoot me, then?”
“He doesn’t like Russians. Probably think you’re dangerous, huh?” I shrug, hurriedly looking for an excuse to change the topic.
“What? Is it common-”
“Oh, look.” My gaze lands on the neon signs of a nightclub half a block away, and I point at it before she starts asking dangerous questions. “I know that place. They make good drinks. Do you wanna come in?”
I look at her, mindlessly sliding my hand to her waist, and even in the darkness of the evening, I can see the shyness in her smile. It won’t take long until she melts in my arms, and god, why does this thought make me
so warm?
“I don’t know. I’m not a big drinker,” Alina murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. All of a sudden, her eyes light up, and she turns to look at me. “But maybe you would dance with me?”
Ah, actually, I’m a terrible dancer…but how can I say no to her?