“I work for… Obsidian,” she said. “You were just there.”
“I’m not asking about the restaurant,” Danylo said flatly. His voice dropped lower. He leaned toward her, crowding her space. “I’m asking who paid you to notice that laser. Who told you to jump me at exactly the right second. Was it the Odessa people? Another Kyiv crew?”
Alena blinked at him, stunned, tears mixing with the blood on her cheek. “What are you talking about? Nobody paid me. I saw the red light on your chest. I just… I didn’t want you to die.”
Danylo gave a dry laugh. “Nobody does anything for free in this city. And nobody risks their own life to save mine out of kindness. You expect me to believe a restaurant waitress just happened to have combat reflexes?”
“I grew up in orphanages and foster homes,” Alena snapped, anger finally cutting through the fear. “You learn to move fast when you don’t want to get hit. And frankly, I didn’t want a dead body in my section. The paperwork alone would’ve been a nightmare.”
For one beat, the SUV went quiet.
Ilya stared at her. Nikita glanced back through the rearview mirror. Danylo kept looking at her, then one corner of his mouth twitched.
“Drive faster,” he told the driver.
They did not go to a hospital. They did not go to the police. The convoy headed north, out of the city, onto dark roads until Kyiv became a distant glow in the mirror. Two hours later, the SUV crunched over gravel and stopped at a private estate hidden in the pines of Koncha-Zaspa. It looked less like a home than a fortress of glass and concrete.
“Take her inside. Search her. Then bring her to my office,” Danylo said as soon as the car stopped.
They handled Alena like suspicious luggage. Ilya led her through the cold, modern house to a stern woman who looked more like former military than household staff. The woman searched every fold of Alena’s clothes for bugs, weapons, trackers. Then she took her phone.
“Hey, give that back,” Alena protested. “My mother needs to hear from me.”
“You’ll get it back if you make it through the night,” the woman said coolly.
After the search, they brought Alena into Danylo’s office. A fire burned in the fireplace, throwing long shadows across dark wood walls. Danylo stood by the hearth pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, which was still spotted with blood. He turned and held out a second glass.
“Drink.”
Alena shook her head. “I don’t want your whiskey. I want to go home.”
“You can’t go home,” Danylo said. He took a sip. “The man who missed me tonight missed because of you. That makes you a loose end. If I let you walk out of here, you’ll be dead by morning. The people who want me gone are thorough.”
Her knees nearly gave out. She sank into a leather chair.
“So I’m your prisoner.”
“No,” he said. “You’re my guest under heavy security.” He crouched in front of her so their eyes were level. Up close, she could see the fatigue in his face. “Tell me why you did it.”
“I already told you.”
He cut her off gently. “You risked your life for a stranger. Why?”
