I didn't sleep that night.
The folder sat on my kitchen table like a loaded gun. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alexei's face. Those grey eyes. That sad smile. The way he said "I'm a Volkov" like it was a curse he couldn't escape.
By morning, I had made a decision.
I couldn't trust him.
He was a criminal. A killer. The heir to a mafia empire. Everything he said could be a lie designed to manipulate me. The photos, the folder, the story about his mother. All of it could be a trap.
And even if it was true, even if he really wanted to help, I was still a police officer. My job was to uphold the law, not make secret deals with the enemy.
I grabbed the folder and headed for the door.
That's when I heard the knock.
Three times. Hard. Fast.
I froze.
"Kira. Open the door."
Alexei's voice. Low. Calm. Dangerous.
I didn't answer. I backed away from the door, clutching the folder to my chest.
"I know you're in there. I can hear you breathing."
I held my breath.
"Don't make me break the door down."
I looked toward the window. The fire escape. I could climb down. Run to my car. Get to the station before he could stop me.
I moved toward the window.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His voice was closer now. Right outside the window.
I spun around.
He was standing on the fire escape. His grey eyes locked onto mine through the glass. He had climbed up three stories without making a sound.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I ran.
I didn't think. I just moved. Through the living room, out the front door, down the hallway. My feet flew down the stairs. Four flights. Three. Two. One.
I burst through the emergency exit and into the cold morning air.
The street was empty. My car was parked half a block away.
I ran.
"Kira!"
His voice echoed off the buildings. He was behind me. Close. Too close.
I didn't look back. I just ran.
My hand reached for my car door. I yanked it open. I was about to throw myself inside when his hand caught the door and slammed it shut.
I spun around.
Alexei Volkov was standing inches away from me. His chest was heaving. His grey eyes were burning.
"Get away from me," I said.
"No."
"I said get away!"
I shoved him. He didn't move. I shoved him again. Nothing. He was a wall of muscle and stubbornness.
"You're not taking that folder to your father," he said.
"Watch me."
I tried to push past him. He blocked me. I tried again. He grabbed my arms and pinned me against the car.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and urgent. "If you take that folder to your father, you're not saving him. You're signing his death warrant."
"I don't believe you."
"Then you're a fool."
I glared at him. "Let go of me."
"Not until you hear me out."
"I've heard enough of your lies."
"They're not lies." His grip on my arms tightened. Not enough to hurt. Enough to hold me in place. "Detective Webb is not the only rat in your father's precinct. There are at least three others. And they all report directly to Dimitri."
I stopped struggling. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've been watching them for months. I have recordings. Photographs. Bank statements. Everything."
"Then why haven't you done anything with them?"
"Because I was waiting for the right moment." He released my arms but didn't step back. "The gala is tomorrow night. Dimitri's plan is already in motion. If you go to your father now, he'll try to stop it. But he doesn't know who to trust. He'll tip off the wrong person. And then he's dead."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he was wrong.
But I couldn't.
Because deep down, I knew he was right.
My father was a good cop. An honest cop. But he was also naive. He believed in the system. He believed that everyone in his precinct was there to serve justice.
He didn't know that some of them were wolves in sheep's clothing.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Alexei's expression softened. Just a little.
"I want you to trust me."
"Trust you? You're a criminal."
"I'm trying not to be."
I stared at him. The rain had started again, falling softly on his shoulders, his hair, his face. He looked tired. Haunted. Human.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because I'm still here." He took a step back, giving me space. "I could have let you run. I could have let you make your mistake and watched your father die. But I didn't. I came after you. Because I don't want to see you hurt."
"That's not a reason."
"It's the only reason I have."
I looked down at the folder in my hands. Then back up at him.
"If I agree to work with you, what happens next?"
"We go back to the safehouse. I show you everything I have on Dimitri. Every recording. Every photograph. Every piece of evidence. And then we make a plan to stop him."
"And after that?"
"After that, you can do whatever you want. Arrest me. Walk away. Tell your father everything." He shrugged. "I don't care. As long as your father survives tomorrow night."
I searched his eyes for the lie. For the trap.
I didn't find anything.
"One condition," I said.
"Name it."
"You let me call my father. Right now. Not to tell him about you. Just to hear his voice. To make sure he's safe."
Alexei nodded. "Fine."
I pulled out my phone and dialed.
My father answered on the second ring. "Kira? Is everything okay?"
I closed my eyes. His voice. Warm. Familiar. Alive.
"Everything's fine, Dad. I just wanted to hear your voice."
"You're scaring me."
"Don't be scared. I love you."
"I love you too, Kira. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure." I opened my eyes. Alexei was watching me. "I'll see you tomorrow at the gala."
"Be careful."
"I will."
I hung up and slipped the phone back into my pocket.
Alexei was still watching me. His expression was unreadable.
"Happy?" he asked.
"No." I shook my head. "But I'll go with you."
He didn't smile. He just nodded and gestured toward his car, which was parked across the street.
I walked past him and climbed into the passenger seat.
He got in on the driver's side and started the engine.
Neither of us spoke during the drive back to the safehouse.
But when he reached over to adjust the heat, his hand brushed against mine.
He didn't pull away.
And neither did I.