Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
With each step I took to the front door I grew more convinced I was tempting fate. When I peered through the peephole, there was nothing in the hall, just a crisp white wall hung with inoffensive art across from the door.
With my breath catching in my chest, I slowly pushed down the lever and opened the door just a sliver.
And there he was. Some man, standing with his back to the door. Broad shoulders covered in a dark blue suit jacket.
The way he stood told me who he was.
Security.
Whether he worked for Pavel directly or was hotel staff, I had no idea. Either way, he'd stop me, and then God only knew what he would do. I couldn’t imagine Pavel would hire anyone unless they were at least as unscrupulous as him.
Did he even know I was in here? I could pretend to be a call girl or somebody he picked up, doing the walk of shame. But would he want a turn? I didn't want to risk it.
Carefully, my breath still caught in my throat, I closed the door and set the latch back without a sound.
Hope bled from my body as my shoulders slumped enough that the coat almost fell off of my shoulders.
No, I refused to give up that easily.
I straightened my spine, lifted my chin in the air, and walked around the apartment, searching for another exit. There had to be another way out. This suite was too big for there not to be a second door somewhere.
I headed toward the back and found a living room area. It still smelled of smoke and had two teacups and glasses sitting on the coffee table.
On the other side of that room was a small door, designed to blend in. A servants’ entrance.
Hope blossomed in my chest, but I pushed it down just as quickly. While I had to try—there was no doubt about that—what were the chances that Pavel would leave something so obvious completely unguarded?
I ran to the door, first pressing my ear against the wood. It was cold to the touch and there was no sound on the other side.
With one final glance behind me, my hand trembling on the handle, I inhaled sharply and pulled the door open.
I waited for a yell, a guard telling me to get back inside, or threatening me. There was nothing.
Only a dingy, off-white hallway, with no natural light, no art, and no signs of life.
Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run.
I was free—for now.
Taking one last breath, I gripped the handle, pulled the door closed behind me, and stepped into the cold hallway.
I didn't know where I was going—only that I had to run.
CHAPTER 21
ALINA
This was probably the stupidest, most reckless thing I had ever done.
But I didn't have a choice.
The entire time I was in the elevator, I was sure that I was going to hit the bottom floor and the doors would open to reveal Pavel standing there waiting for me. He would have a sadistic grin on his face, the hood in one hand and his belt in the other.
The elevator landed on the ground floor.
There was an excruciatingly long pause before the doors slid open.
My breath locked in my lungs as I squinted, my eyes half-closed.
The breath I'd been holding rushed out of me in a whoosh.
He wasn't there.
No one was.
I crept down the back halls, and I didn't see a single soul until I passed an office where a manager was giving the cleaning staff a lecture about tight corners when making beds.
He berated them about the importance of ninety-degree angles, and it sounded like everyone was too terrified of the man with the thick Russian accent to look away. For a moment, I wondered if the cleaning staff knew what kind of men were in this hotel?
The staff at the offices were never told, but we still knew.
Thanks to my stolen socks, I was able to creep past the door with no one noticing. It wasn't until I slipped out by the loading dock that I realized I had nowhere to go.
I was out. Completely free, with pockets stuffed with more money than I knew what to do with and nowhere to go. There were no close friends I could turn to, no boyfriends or confidants.
The only person I had was my grandmother, and I couldn't bring this to her nursing home doorstep.
With nowhere else to turn and worried that Pavel was going to find me at any moment, I went to the only place I could think of.
My apartment.
I walked several blocks, through the winding maze of DC streets, keeping my head down and avoiding people's gazes. I couldn't risk making eye contact. What if someone stopped me and asked if I needed help? Or worse, what if they stopped me and mugged me, finding Pavel's cash?