Chapter 3 - The Door Marked Private
Odessa discovered that fear felt strangely similar to embarrassment.
Both heated the skin.
Both made breathing difficult.
Both created an overwhelming desire to be somewhere else.
The difference was that embarrassment had never caused Anton Kazarian to summon 4 armed men into his office.
Luka entered first.
Anton handed him the forged manifest.
His relaxed expression vanished.
“Where did she get this?”
“My desk,” Odessa answered.
Luka looked at her.
“Who else saw you find it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good.”
“I gathered that from the guns.”
Anton crossed to the windows.
“Lock down the floor.”
Luka nodded.
Odessa stood.
“I should go home.”
“No.”
Anton answered too quickly.
She stared at him.
“No?”
“You stay here until I know who did this.”
“Anton, I have nothing to do with whatever—”
“I know.”
“Then unlock the door.”
“No.”
Odessa’s fear turned into anger.
Three years of making herself small disappeared surprisingly quickly.
“You do not get to lock me in an office because someone else committed a crime.”
Anton turned.
“This isn’t about controlling you.”
“You’re literally controlling whether I can open a door.”
His jaw tightened.
Luka suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.
Anton approached her.
“Someone moved $9 million through that container.”
Odessa stopped.
“$9 million?”
“In diamonds.”
She stared.
“That is definitely not machine parts.”
“No.”
“And you’re telling me this because?”
“Because ignorance stopped protecting you when you found the forgery.”
Odessa sat slowly.
Anton crouched in front of her.
The gesture startled everyone, including him.
His voice softened.
“I need you to think. Who touched those papers?”
Odessa closed her eyes.
She reconstructed the morning.
Courier.
Mail cart.
Priscilla borrowing a stapler.
Accounting clerk.
Then something clicked.
“Graham.”
Anton’s expression sharpened.
“Graham Voss?”
“Vice president of logistics.”
“What about him?”
“He brought the manifest himself.”
Luka swore.
Anton stood.
“Find him.”
Luka left.
Twenty minutes later, he returned alone.
“Gone.”
Anton’s face darkened.
“His car?”
“Still downstairs.”
Odessa’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
Anton reached for the phone.
Odessa pulled it away.
“It’s mine.”
“Do not answer.”
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man spoke.
“You should have stayed invisible.”
The line disconnected.
Odessa stared at the screen.
Anton took the phone from her.
Whatever restraint remained in his expression disappeared.
“Trace it.”
Luka took the phone.
Odessa hugged herself.
Anton noticed.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“My apartment—”
“Is no longer safe.”
“You don’t know that.”
Anton looked at her.
“The person who called knew you found the manifest. That means he knows who you are. Assume he knows where you live.”
The possibility made her stomach turn.
“I need clothes.”
“I’ll have someone get them.”
“I don’t want strangers touching my underwear.”
Luka made a sound suspiciously like a laugh.
Anton glared at him.
Odessa almost smiled despite everything.
Almost.
“Fine,” Anton said. “We’ll stop there.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“You’re coming?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His answer came without hesitation.
“Because I’m not trusting your safety to anyone else.”
The words settled between them.
Neither acknowledged what they sounded like.
Thirty minutes later, Odessa entered her apartment with Anton and 2 security men.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
She packed quickly.
When she emerged from her bedroom, Anton was standing before the photographs on her bookshelf.
One showed Odessa at 12 with her grandmother.
Another showed her graduating college.
A third showed her with Grant.
Anton stared at that one.
“Who is he?”
“Ancient history.”
“You were together.”
“Yes.”
“He hurt you.”
Odessa froze.
“What makes you think that?”
“The way you said ancient history.”
She zipped her bag.
“Emotionally.”
Anton looked back at the photograph.
“He made you think you were difficult to love.”
Her chest tightened.
“You’ve known me for 3 years and barely noticed me. Don’t suddenly pretend you understand me.”
Anton turned.
The truth struck harder than she intended.
He did not defend himself.
“You’re right.”
That stopped her.
“I should have noticed you.”
“Why?”
“Because you noticed everything for me.”
Odessa looked away.
Anton stepped closer.
“You remembered every meeting. Every shipment. Every person I didn’t trust. You made my life function while I barely knew anything about yours.”
“That was my job.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“That was how I justified not looking.”
She met his eyes.
“And now?”
“Now I can’t seem to stop.”
Silence.
Dangerous, trembling silence.
Then glass shattered in the living room.
Anton moved before Odessa understood what happened.
He grabbed her and pulled her down.
A bullet struck the wall where her head had been.
Someone screamed outside.
Anton covered Odessa with his body.
More glass shattered.
His security team drew weapons and rushed toward the windows.
“Stay down!”
Odessa could hear her own heartbeat.
Anton’s hand cradled the back of her head.
His face was inches from hers.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“You’re okay.”
Another shot cracked.
Then silence.
Luka’s voice came through Anton’s earpiece.
“Shooter fled.”
Anton looked toward the broken window.
Then back at Odessa.
The expression on his face frightened her more than the bullet.
Not because he looked afraid.
Because he looked furious.
He stood and lifted her with him.
“We’re leaving.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
Odessa shook her head.
“Anton—”
“No arguments.”
She looked at the bullet hole.
For once, she had none.
His estate sat 25 minutes outside Savannah behind stone walls, live oaks, and enough security to defend a small country.
Odessa stared through the SUV window.
“What exactly do you import again?”
Anton looked at her.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You.”
She blinked.
He almost smiled.
“Temporarily.”
For the first time since the shooting, Odessa laughed.
Anton stared.
May you like
And something changed again.
But neither of them noticed the black sedan following 3 cars behind.
