Page 31 of Twisted Prince
But I know she doesn’t like confinement. Whatever ghosts haunt her, that one’s not hard to see. And though I backed off as quickly as I realized what I’d done, I’d already planted the seed.
I should have stayed and finished talking it out—even if Pyotr got pissed I was late.
Because now Mel is gone, and I have no way of finding her.
Swallowing hard, I look up from the letter at Annie. Tears stream openly down her cheeks now, her devastation as apparent as the pain inside me.
“Sh-She called about an hour ago to tell me she’s safe,” she breathes. “But she didn’t say where she went or if she’s staying.”
I nod, fighting the urge to demand Annie’s phone. Because if I wanted, I could find the area code Mel called from and at least know in which direction she’s heading. My mind is automatically working on ways to track her before I’ve even decided to. It’s so deeply ingrained in my instincts, that I could probably find her—even if she doesn’t want to be found.
But Mel’s right.
My life is not good for her.
She would never truly be out of danger as long as she chose to be with me. And because of that, I would always want to hold her too close. So, if I genuinely care about Mel, I need to respect her wishes. I need to set her free.
“Thank you, Annie,” I say softly.
Then I turn and force myself to leave.
“Everything okay, boss?” Lev asks as I nearly rip the front door off its hinges in my fury.
“Peachy,” I growl, my arms shaking with the effort to close it more gently. “I’m going hunting. I might be off the radar for a few days, but call me if anything comes up. Otherwise, I’m trusting the girls’ safety to you and Denka.”
“Sure thing.”
“And, Lev?”
“Da.”
“Mel’s no longer our problem. She’s gone. Not missing.”
Lev stands in stunned silence, confusion written across his face. But he doesn’t ask questions as I stalk down the steps and fling my leg over my bike.
It took everything I had not to take what might be my only lead and follow it to Mel. And if I’m going to keep myself from changing my mind, I need a distraction worthy of forgetting about her.
The one good thing I can say about losing Mel? At least I’ll have no distractions while I hunt down Mikhail’s spy. And when I find him, he’s going to regret the day he wound up in my sights.
13
MEL
“You’ve got this,” I coach myself, bringing Silvia’s confident voice to my mind to help fortify my nerve. Mixed in there, I try to remember Dani’s encouraging praise—she’s the one who inspired me to look into modeling in the first place.
It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to either of them. Silvia, I spoke to just a few days before I left—two months ago now. But both women give me strength, even from this distance.
While not nearly as far as I had anticipated running, Boston just felt like the right place for me to attempt to reignite my modeling career. As soon as I stepped off the train and into the bustling city, it felt like home away from home—a smaller New York where I wouldn’t have to think about Mikhail or Captain Zmeya or even Pyotr or Gleb ever again.
Or so I’d hoped.
But thoughts of Gleb have been impossible to vanquish. Now more than ever, it would seem.
Still, there’s no going back, even if I miss New York and its inhabitants more every day. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I peer up at the towering skyscraper, its sleek facade made entirely of glass.
Then, I step into the open reception area.
“Hi, I’m Melody O’Mara,” I say, stepping up to the front desk and smiling at the sharp-lipped blonde behind the computer. “Here for a meeting with Mr. Henry.”
