She rang the bell. The door opened almost immediately. Artem stood in the doorway in a white shirt and dark trousers—handsome, smiling, perfect.
“Dashenka.” He hugged and kissed her. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Daria forced herself to smile and return the kiss. His lips were warm, familiar, and disgusting.
“I missed you too,” she said, stepping into the apartment.
The apartment was exactly as she had imagined it. Minimalist design, expensive furniture, perfect order. Not a single unnecessary item, not a single personal photograph. Sterile, like an operating room.
“Do you like it?” Artem asked, watching her reaction.
“Very modern,” Daria replied. “But a bit empty.”
“That’s because it’s missing a woman’s touch. Your touch.” He hugged her again. “Soon everything will change. Together, we’ll make this place a real home.”
“A home I won’t leave alive,” Daria thought.
“Will you show me everything?” she asked, gently freeing herself from his embrace. “I want to know where everything is. To plan the redecorating.”
“Of course.”
Artem gave her a tour of the apartment. Living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. Everything was impeccably clean and utterly impersonal.
“And what’s this?” Daria pointed to a closed door at the end of the hallway.
“My office. I work in there.”
“Can I see?”
Artem hesitated for a second. Just for a second, but Daria noticed.
“It’s a mess in there,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I don’t want you to see me so disorganized.”
“I’ve seen your car after a workday. Believe me, it’s hard to surprise me with a mess.” She smiled her most charming smile. The one he loved so much.
Artem laughed.
“Alright, you convinced me. But just a quick look.”
He opened the office door. Daria walked in and looked around. The room was small: a desk, a computer, bookshelves. And in the corner—a metal cabinet. Massive, gray, with a digital lock. The safe.
“What’s that?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound casual.
“Documents. Contracts, financial papers. Boring business stuff.”
“You’re such a serious businessman,” she playfully poked him in the side. “And you never tell me about your work.”
“Because I don’t want to bore you.” He put his arm around her waist. “Come on, I’ll show you the balcony. The view from there is amazing.”
Daria let him lead her out of the office, but she had memorized the safe’s location. In the corner, to the right of the door. Digital lock. Six digits.
The view from the balcony was indeed beautiful: the evening city, the lights, the sunset. Artem hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife,” he whispered. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“Me too.”
“We’ll be happy.”
“I promise.”
Daria felt his hands tighten on her waist. A little tighter than necessary. Possessively.
“I need to use the restroom,” she said, freeing herself. “Will you wait?”
“Of course.”
She left the balcony and headed for the bathroom. On the way, she took out her phone and quickly typed a message to her father: “Saw the safe. Office. Corner right. Six digits. All okay.”
The reply came instantly: “Got it. Be careful.”
Daria hid her phone and went into the bathroom. She needed a minute. Just a minute to gather her strength. She looked in the mirror. A pale face, dark circles under her eyes. But her gaze was firm, resolute.
“You can do this,” she told her reflection. “Just a little longer. Just a little bit more.”
When she came out of the bathroom, Artem was waiting for her in the living room with two glasses of wine.
“To us,” he said, handing her a glass.
Daria took the glass but didn’t drink. She remembered Zhanna’s words about Svetlana. Sleeping pills. Overdose.
“I’m driving,” she said.
“Later at the restaurant. You came by taxi, right?”
“Yes, but…” She hesitated. “I just don’t want to drink on an empty stomach. I’ll get dizzy.”
Artem shrugged and placed her glass on the table.
“As you wish. Then let’s go to the restaurant. I’ve booked our table. Let’s go.”
They left the apartment. In the elevator, Artem hugged her again. And Daria forced herself to press against him. To play the part. Until the end.
Stepan watched as they left the building and got into Artem’s car. The black SUV pulled away smoothly.
“They’re gone,” he said into the radio. “How much time do we have?”
