Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I used drugs to cope because I knew it would push Polina away.
I got addicted because I couldn’t imagine a life worth living if she wasn’t a part of it.
It is a cruel fucking cycle that has no end in sight.
As I scrub at the back of my neck, suddenly filled with shame, I drag my eyes around my living room, unsure of what to do next. I’ve never felt so out of place in my own space before, but I’d be deceitful if I said I’ve ever felt truly settled and comfortable.
My stomach is twisted up in knots and my body is achy, but not all my pains reside around Feo’s untimely demise, and the fact Alek isn’t pushing me for an answer as to why I decided to stay in Kronstadt longer than planned exposes he too is feeling on edge.
It could be because Ana is due to give birth in a couple of weeks, but once again, my intuition is warning me that it’s more than that.
My eyes return to my laptop screen when Kliment mutters, “Want to talk about it?”
The tuft of dark hair I teased Feo about flops down my forehead when I shake my head. After he sat with me in the cold room with Feo for days, I now class Kliment as more of a friend than an associate, but I’m too fucking confused to conjure how to explain my bewilderment to someone else.
“Could you step me through the process of digitally identifying him?”
The man in question is from an image bounced off the security camera Vasily pointed out earlier this week. He was in the sedan, documenting Polina’s every move.
“With the right equipment, probably.” Kliment pauses for a beat before asking, “Why? Do you have a government laptop hidden somewhere in that mess?”
I grit my teeth when shame once again smacks into me. “No. But I could get access to one.” As I let Kliment mull over my reply, I pick up the business card handed to me Friday night. I knew I had seen the elderly gent dining with Polina and Vasily before, but it wasn’t from the ministry role documented on his business card. He had a front-row seat to a dozen fights I participated in before I moved to Sicily. “I was invited to an event in his home Friday night.” With Kliment’s comment about my messy abode announcing he’s watching me, I twist Leon Cabanow’s card around to face the camera in my laptop. “I’m down with borrowing his computer. I am sure he’s got more than one.”
Kliment chuckles for barely a second. “They’ll lock us out the instant they realize it is missing.”
I sigh, disappointed.
It is a waste of energy I don’t have.
“But with the right software, I could remotely control his computer.” Papers ruffle before Kliment says, “I left an encrypted driver in the security office of your apartment building. If you plug that into any of his computers, within a couple of keystrokes, I’ll gain access to his files.”
“Then could you scan this guy’s face?”
He laughs. “And a fuckton more.” I realize he’s more perceptive than he lets on when he murmurs, “Possibly even a reason she’s dating that douche.”
I play it cool. “She?”
I startle like a soft cock when Kliment’s face fills the screen a second before he nudges his head to my right. Polina is standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Her shoulder is propped against the doorjamb. Although she looks ravishing in an oversized T-shirt, with bare legs and a nude face, I’m about to go on a rampage.
There’s no way Kliment can see her through the laptop webcam. That fucker must have rigged my apartment with cameras.
Or worse, Alek did.
“I’ll—”
“Close your curtains? Good idea.” The sound of him whacking his keyboard fills the silence for a couple of seconds. “Because I’m not the only one watching. I piggybacked off someone’s feed.”
Polina must hear him, as her brows furrow before she moves for the thick drapes covering a window that stretches from one side of the living room to the next.
“Can you follow any breadcrumbs?”
“Trying…” He punishes his keyboard before punishing his hair. “Fuck. They must have seen the footprints I left so I could get back out.” He continues typing. “Although they shouldn’t have been able to see them.”
“They’re gone?”
“They’re gone,” he verifies. “But I’d still suggest closing your curtains.” The creak of an office chair sounds down the line. “Equipment used was basic, but that doesn’t mean jack shit these days. We’re not all forced to go with the lowest quote.”
His reply hints that it could be law enforcement watching us, but he’s not confident enough to say it outright.
“Keep an eye on things. I doubt they’ll come back now that they know we’re watching.”
“But you’d rather be safe than sorry.”